Change
by Xeelee
Summary: PostOotP. Left alone at Privet Drive. Harry realises he is too weak to face the Dark Lord, and so he has to change himself. Even if it means setting himself apart from his former friends. Dark!Harry, HD slash to come Don't like it, don't read it
1. Sudden Changes

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: This is all the fault of the new Harry Potter movie, and too much free time. I like a more darker Harry, and love Draco, so that's where the train's headed :)

**Chapter 1**

It was hot. Terribly hot. He could see the air simmer outside his window, and no one that absolutely needn't move, didn't. Such as Harry Potter. Lying on his back he brushed through his wet hair. He was sweating like someone in hell might, and the sheet stuck to his sweaty body like a second skin.  
But at least he was alone and hadn't had to put up with the Dursleys. Granted, compared to previous summers, this was a positively good one so far. The little chat Moody and the other Order members had with the Dursleys at the King's Cross three weeks ago had had some influence on them. They even allowed him to have the trunk in his room, and tried their best to be nice to them. But it was wearing off. Even though they had promised it, no member of the Order showed up.  
And to add insult to injury, no one told him what was happening.  
Well, to be fair, Ron and Hermione had sent letters early in his summer, but they were not more than poor attempts to keep him happy. He felt his anger rise as he remembered it.  
_...Busy here...Loads of fun...Can't tell more...Will tell you everything...Wish you were here...Hope you have fun, too...Not your fault, don't brood too much...  
_Fun, sure, loads of it. He laughed. A harsh laugh, without any trace of humour. His friends at school would have been slightly irritated, if not shocked at this. It was so...un-Harry-like. So far, he hadn't been visited by anyone. And there have been no other letters from his friends.  
Well, there was one other letter. And this one had hurt and depressed him like nothing before.  
Churling & Mayberth, an old and distinguished wizarding law firm, had sent him paperwork regarding the Black heritage. He was shocked as he found out that Sirius had named him his sole heir. When he first read it, he threw up. He was sick to his core.  
He had murdered him, and now he was rewarded for it? That couldn't be right! He tried to protest, have them reconsider or forget about it. He even tried to bribe them. They didn't cave in.  
So, despite his own heart, he gave in and accepted. He was no pauper before, but with the Black fortune, he was incredibly rich. And he hated it.  
It wasn't his fault, as he had been told so many times. But when he was alone, in his soul, he knew it was his fault. Harry hadn't pushed him through the veil, but he might as well have. He was stupid enough to run head first into the trap.  
He acted too foolish, too rash and irrational. Too emotional. If he had only thought it through...If he hadn't listened to his emotions...  
But no, he had to act like any stupid, heroic Gryffindor would.  
"Harry Potter," a harsh booming voice cut through his thoughts like a buzz saw, "come down here. Now."  
He sighed and bit down his thoughts. He heaved himself out of his bed and had to pull the sheet off his body. Putting on a shirt, he walked down the stairs.  
Uncle Dursley waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, his face a shade of slight pink. Something that highly annoyed him was going on, he was sure. As soon as Vernon saw him, he sneered at him and stepped aside, revealing Remus Lupin.  
"One of your freaky friends is here," he snapped and stomped off like a frightened elephant.  
Lupin looked almost like he remembered him, though he wore slightly better robes. His face, though, was even gaunter than last time around, as if he's been through a lot.  
"Hello Harry," he smiled warmly. "How are you?"  
"How I am?" Harry snapped. He was shocked by himself. He didn't mean to sound so bitter. _But what were they thinking? Leaving me alone like this?_ "I'm absolutely _fine_. The last three weeks were positively _thrilling_. With all those many visits and letters of you, oh wait, that didn't happen..."  
Lupin's smile wavered, but only for a split second. "I know it's not been as you thought it would. But it's been for your best. There's a war going on, as you're aware of. And now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out in the open - thanks to you - it's been getting worse. There've been many attacks in the last two weeks, and, well, as Dumbledore told you, you're safe here from him..."  
"Right Yeah," he snorted. "But why you're telling me what I already know?" "I've been sent by the Order. You can't come to Grimauld Place, at least not as soon as we hoped. Dumbledore thinks it's best-"  
"That's it? That's why you're here? To wreck the last hopes I had?"  
"I wanted to come. The others feared it would be unsafe and wanted to send a letter instead. But you deserve better. So I came."  
The anger rose again inside him. Like I am a useless child! "Thanks," his voice sounded cold, "I've things to do. I'm sorry." He slammed the door shut in a burst of fury.  
"But Ha-"he could hear Lupin's muffled voice through the door. The next thing he heard was a loud crack as Lupin obviously apparated.  
"So your freaks left you? They won't come for you?" Dudley laughed out. He had hidden himself out of sight of the door, and now stood in the hall with a nasty grin on his obese face. The additional boxing training over the last year had turned the fat swine into a fat swine with muscles. Not that it was an improvement for the better...  
"Shut it, Dudley," he simply said and stormed up to his room, slamming his door forcefully shut.  
"Dad will love to hear that!" he heard Dudley shout from downstairs._After all I did, after all I went through, they still don't trust me? Safety, my ass. I bet they still think I'm the next dark Lord. Or I would crack up and turn into a mental vegetable.  
_It was him who had suffered the most. He saw Cedric die. It was him who had faced Voldemort, repeatedly. His Godfather was dead. Death surrounded him like an intangible aura.  
Another spike of fiery hot anger shot through him.  
In the last three weeks, all he could do was think. And that he did. He realised now that he had been wrong all this long time. Sooner or later, either he would die or Voldemort. It was prophesied. And as things went, he was sure it would be him in the end. At least the current Harry. How could he expect to beat the Dark Lord if he was stupid enough to run into his traps?  
No. To beat Voldemort this would have to change. He would have to change. He was weak. The old Harry had to go.  
Uncle Vernon threw the door wide open, and Harry shot up from his bed.  
"Dudley just told me!" He sneered. "You're alone now. And they won't come running for your help as they had us believe." He smiled. If that what cracked up his face could ever be called a smile. "Things will change now. You'll move that...weird stuff of yours down into the cupboard again and you won't leave your room for the remainder of your time here. Which means you'll stop eating at our table, as well."  
Harry simply looked up at him and cleared his mind. Somehow Uncle Vernon was confused by his expression. Surely, he had expected fury or anger. But certainly not the utter disinterest Harry showed now. _I will have to change._ The thought flashed through his mind again. Maybe this was the time to begin.  
"No, I won't," he simply stated. "I tell you what I am going to do. I will pack my things, walk out of your house, and you will not tell anyone about it."  
Uncle Vernon looked at him, and it seemed he wasn't sure what to think. The bizarre mixture of joy and anger on his face certainly was worth it already.  
"YOU don't tell me what I'm going to do!" He raised his hand for a back slap, but before he could bring it down on him, Harry had his wand out and pointed at Vernon. He stopped for a short time, but then he smiled again, and hit him. The slap nearly threw him into the wall. "You can't threaten me with that! I know you're not allowed to use magic outside your infernal school!"  
Harry straigthened himself, a thin smile crossed his face. Vernon certainly didn't expect that. "You're right," he said, blood tickling down the corner of his mouth. "But you know what? Soon, I will be of age. And then I am allowed to use magic. And I know where you live."  
It took several seconds for it to sink into Vernon's thick skull. "You- You're threatening me?"  
"Yes, I am," he said. Even Harry was surprised by his cold determination. But after all this years, this felt so strangely good... Vernon looked him in the eyes, and somehow, he believed him. He stumbled back out of his room.  
"OUT. NOW!" he screamed. "I don't want to see you again!"It took Harry no less than 10 minutes to have his stuff packed and walk out of the Dursley's home. A sudden stab of panic rushed through him, but then was replaced again by cold determination. He had to do it. And it felt good. Pulling out of his wand, he called the Knight's Bus, and got onto it, just as the sun set behind his back.  
_I will have to change..._


	2. Diagon Alley revisited

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

Thanks for the reviews :)   
Never written fanfics, only "original" stuff, so this is a whole new world for me #g# Suffering from HP-addiction is a bad thing it seems...  
( Should anyone spot glaring mistakes, errors, plot holes large enough to steer aircraft carriers through, feel free to smack them over my head repeatedly #g#)   
And this might be a wee bit short for a chapter, but I like to have them split into meaningful sections, so change of location is one of those moments to end a chapter.   
**Sheree:** There's always the train to Hogwarts :)   
**Sadiw:** He tries to use those nice, honor-bound Gryffindor ethics to get free :)

###

He stepped off the Knight's Bus in front of the _Leaky Cauldron_.   
The sun was still blisteringly hot, and looking up into the sky he could not make out any clouds that would come to his rescue. _And people think London was all fog and rain..._   
He choose to stay the night on the Bus, as he thought it would be best if he kept moving, and it was a less public place to stay than the _Leaky Cauldron_ would have been. Once you got used to the sudden speed changes the rough ride, it was almost possible to get a good sleep in those beds.   
To keep himself from being spotted, he tried a theory he came up with while he had time to think. He wore his worst clothes, and given the level of clothes he normally had to put up with, this was quite saying something. He wore a hooded sweater, even in this heat, and tried his best to keep his face hidden.   
Pushing open the door, he looked around. It seemed to be one of the less busy days and he counted only four customers sitting at the tables. No one did really notice him as he pushed his trunk and the cage with Hedwig into it. Tom, drying some glasses behind his bar, looked up and eyed him. Harry stepped in front of the bar.   
"Hi," he rasped, "I have some business in Diagon Alley, and don't like to carry my stuff with me. Could you look out for it for a few minutes?" He knew his voice sounded utterly stupid, but it was as far away from his normal voice as he could get without resorting to Helium.   
"Yeah, I could I guess. For a little...fee."   
Harry pulled out a little satchel and dropped three Galleons on the bar. "Two for the luggage, and one for your...discretion," he rasped conspiratorially.   
Tom nodded, and his hand snapped out and quickly put the gold in his pocket.

Harry made his way to the entrance of Diagon Alley, opened the gateway and walked through it into the alley.   
It was just as busy as he remembered it, unlike the _Leaky Cauldron_. As he made his way through the throng of people, he realised his theory was correct. People were ignoring him, as he looked way to shabby to be considered worthy of attention. Sure, the Invisibility Cloak was better at hiding him, but this was less dangerous, as no one was likely to stumble into him. They were making their best efforts not to.   
It proved to be a slight hindrance, though, as he finally entered Gringott's. While he was on the Knight's Bus and thought about his future plans, he always came to the conclusion he needed money first. Not that it was a dire problem for him... But it forced him to go into the wizarding world.   
The guards at the entrance kept watch on him even as he was in the main hall and the goblins looked as if he was some kind of unworthy creature. He ignored their looks and went to the next free goblin, putting his vault key on the desk.   
"I want to make a withdrawal."   
"Name, please?"  
"Potter, Harry," he almost whispered.   
The goblin raised an eyebrow and pulled out a small parchment form.   
Harry took it, scribbled the sum he wanted to withdraw from his vault on it and handed it back. As the goblin read the sum, his eyebrow raised a little further. "Very well then," he said and handed the form one of his assistants.   
Minutes went past and then a goblin with a rather large bag of gold came to a stop besides him. Harry looked at it appraisingly.   
"Thank you," he cleared his throat. "If you could convert three quarters of it to muggle money, please?"   
The clerk goblin slightly sighed. "Surely." He took the bag and went into the back offices.   
Several minutes later, he returned with a smaller bag of gold and a thick envelope. He handed both over to Harry. He opened the envelope and checked it. All muggle money. It should be enough for some time in the muggle world...   
He thanked the goblin and left the bank, a wicked smile on his face.

Next he went to an owlery. He didn't like it, but he surmised he had to at least give Dumbledore and his fellow Order members some life sign and inform them of his absence. He took a piece of parchment and started to write.

_ Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_ If you read this letter, I won't be at the Dursley's anymore.  
I thought I could go on, after all what happened, and still come to  
terms with myself and the world. I can't. I need time for myself, to  
think, to sort it out.  
I would have liked to come to Grimauld Place, but you thought  
differently. I can't understand it, but so be it.  
You once told me it's the choices that define us. So I beg you to  
accept my choice to be left alone for this summer. Do not try to find  
me. I assure you I will be on the train to Hogwarts.  
If I will die, it will be my choice and my fault.  
If you need to contact me, to send me my Hogwarts letter for example,  
send it to the owlery on Diagon Alley, I will arrange for it to be  
delivered to my hiding place._

_ Best Regards,  
Harry Potter._

He re-read it, and was pleased. It was sufficiently clear enough, without really giving away his motivation. He attached it to a small owl. It soared into the sky as he left the owlery.

He talked to the head of the owlery, and arranged for letters directed to him to be stored until Hedwig came and picked them up. With a small bribe he was more than happy to oblige.

For now, he was finished in Diagon Alley and he made his way to the entrance.

Back in the Cauldron, he was pleased to find that his belongings still were there, as was Hedwig. He gave Tom another galleon, as a friendly gesture, and walked out of the pub.

_Where to go now?_   
He already decided he would spend his time in the muggle world. There he could pass as a normal boy, and not fear to be unveiled as the Boy-Who-Lived and have a squad of Order members fall over themselves to protect him minutes later. He was sick of it.   
If he was to beat the Dark Lord, how could he do it if he was kept hidden somewhere out of harm's way?   
No, this was the best way. And if some Death Eater found him, then so be it. He was man enough to stand up to them.

_But back to the problem where to stay...   
_He remembered a travel guide show of London he once saw on TV. They had a very good hotel featured. It did seem to be decent enough. He managed to attract a cabby, and got into the cab after his stuff had been stuffed into the boot of the cab.   
"Ey, where'ye want te go?" he asked.   
He concentrated, hard. It was at the tip of his tongue... What was the bloody name again?  
Then it hit him like a lightning. "The Savoy."   
The cabby looked at him with a funny smile on his face, and then started the car.


	3. Remaking Himself

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: slightly larger than I expected it to be, but it wraps up quite a bit of time. Hope it istn't too tedious...

###

The cab stopped in front of the Savoy.   
Harry was stunned to see it in reality, with his own eyes. It was very noble, very classy, and very pricy from the look of it.   
Once again, his choice of clothing seemed to be a serious disadvantage. The concierge looked as if he was some sort of beggar. But he made it up with demeanour. He strode past him into the main hall as if he owned it, his trunk and birdcage in tow behind him.   
He came to a halt at the reception. A snotty young man with dirt-blond hair, no older than 20 he guessed, looked down on him and seemed to hide a very haughty sneer on his face. "Are you looking for someone?" he asked in an incredibly posh voice.   
"No," Harry answered in a crystal clear voice as haughty as he could manage, "I am looking for a suite and wondered if there was one available."   
"Are you now?" he receptionist scoffed. "I am certain you'll find a youth hostel to be more to your liking..."  
"No," he stated. "I would prefer to stay here."   
"Boy, it is expensive here. Your mom and dad certainly won't like you spend so much money," he managed to chuckle without actually chuckling. A stunning feat.   
"My parents are both dead, but thanks for reminding me," he icily answered. "And you will find that I can very well afford any accommodation." He pulled out his envelope and took some bills out of it.   
The raised eyebrow and the gleam in the eyes of the boy assured Harry that he had won. _Greed, a very useful trait..._   
"Ah," the receptionist said, his voice now warm with friendliness, "as luck would have it, we have a very pleasant suite ready."   
"Why, thank you," Harry smiled at him. "I will take it then. If you could please arrange for my belongings to be brought into the suite?"  
"Of course, Mr...?"   
He thought for a split second. Potter would be too obvious, if anyone came looking for him. Evans was only slightly less obvious. _What about..._   
"Riddle, Harry Riddle," he answered with a very wicked smile that sent visible shivers down the receptionist.   
He typed something into the computer, and then handed him a sheet of paper. "If you could please sign here?" he pointed towards a dotted line at the bottom of the paper.   
Harry signed it and handed it back to him. With a quick movement of his hand, he placed a 50-pound bill under it as he handed it back. The surprised look on the receptionist as he found out was worth it. If possible, his smile got even friendlier. "If you need anything, just call for Duncan."   
"I will," he smiled.

###

Harry yawned and stretched on his huge bed. He crawled out of it and dressed in some trousers and a t-shirt.   
He heard a knock on the door, and with a raspy "Come!" his breakfast was rolled into the living room of his suite. Giving a rather large tip, the waiter left and Harry hungrily attacked his breakfast.   
The last week, he though in retrospect, went quite well, despite his fears. The suite was incredibly luxurious, and room service was too good to be true. House elves might have been a tad better, but he settled for this.   
Money, he came to think, wasn't as bad as he initially made it to be. He still resented all the money he got from other people dying, but if it helped him in his fight it could actually do something good. And given enough...enticement, people would do almost anything for it.   
Another thing he realised was that having to haul cash around him all the time wasn't very clever, so he went to a bank and opened an account. At first, they ignored him and went all haughty on him. But as soon as they realised that he was really loaded, they nearly drowned him in niceties and personal assistants.  
  
On his second day in the hotel, Hedwig brought two letters. One was from Dumbledore.  
  
_ Dear Harry,  
  
I must thank you for your letter. Your departure certainly had us  
worried. Even though I think it is unwise, I will respect your wishes.  
The last weeks and months have indeed been hard on yourself, much  
harder than anyone would expect to bear in your age. And I must admit  
no small part of it was due to me and my refusal to accept your  
growing maturity...  
I have faith that you will make the right decisions in the end,  
  
Best Wishes,  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
P.S.: I know it is still some time to the beginning of school, but I  
have attached the list of books and equipment you'll need in the new  
school year.  
_  
_Well, well, well..._ That worked as he had planned. _Gryffindor ethics could be so easily fooled..._  
  
The other letter was less...pleasant.   
It was from Ron and Hermione. He still felt the anger rise in his heart as he thought about it. They just didn't understand. Their little minds, in their little world...   
_...Irresponsible...foolish...listen to Professor Dumbledore...everyone is disappointed..._ It went on and on.   
No 'We understand you Harry and wish the best'; no 'we are your friends'. He banished the thoughts from his head before he got angry again...  
  
For the most part of the past week, he had stayed 'at home' and did something astonishing: he learned.   
His new determination, his will to fight until the end, made him change that as well. Knowledge was needed to defeat the Voldemort. And the only way to get it was to learn. There was no way around it, and he chocked down his resentment.   
His books, quills, rolls of parchment, and other things were strewn out on the large dining table. He found out, that once he was undisturbed and alone, he actually was a quick learner. Which meant he was nearly through all his school books and had written all his homework essays, even a tedious two-foot essay for Professor Snape about some obscure shape shifting potion. He was really surprised as he finished it at a good length of three feet. Of course, he wasn't expecting any good marks to come his way for it, but one never knew...   
Much to his chagrin, though, the schoolbooks weren't all that helpful. Sure, they taught him the basics, but he didn't think Voldemort was shuddering with fear when he heard that Harry Potter had the knowledge of intelligence potions and insect transfigurations at his disposal...   
No, he needed new books, with the real knowledge, powerful spells. Things he would need in a fight for his life. This also meant he had to go back to Diagon Alley to get them.   
He sighed and toddled into the bathroom.   
He was greeted by a very sleazy looking young boy. He had slight rings under his eyes from his long nights, and his hair was all greasy, like a short-haired version of Snape.   
So far, he had ignored his looks. But he came to the decision that it would have to change, as well. Maybe it reminded him of his old self, the one he was trying to leave behind. He wasn't sure, but if he was to die at the hands of the Dark Lord, at least he could die looking good.   
He had to laugh at himself. Here he was, the Boy-Who-Lived, thinking about his looks...  
  
After he thought about what to do, he went out and into the city.   
Clothes were his first priority. He really didn't look too good in Dudley's old hand-me-downs and second-hand clothes.   
Shopping was a mixed experience. Like everywhere else, they were eyeing him suspiciously as he entered the various shops. But as soon as he waved with his money, the damns broke. After what seemed like days of shopping, he had several outfits for all occasions, from Hugo Boss, Armani, and some others he really liked.   
As several shop assistants told him, he should go for a classic elegance in style, and so he did. They also found out that black was _really_ his colour, and so all his clothes now where either black, or of darker colours. Nothing shiny or outright bright.   
He wore on of his new outfits, a black jeans, a dark green button-down shirt and a black baseball cap he pulled deep down to hide his face; the rest he had transported to his suite, as he wasn't feeling like carrying it all himself.   
It was crazy, but he already felt different. He wasn't sure. Free, unchained? All he knew was that it felt better.   
Next stop was an optician. He wanted to change completely, and his glasses were among the most prominent signs of himself, except the scar, of course. With his new clothes, he didn't have to wave his money at people to get them to tend him, too. He bought several sets of contact lenses, and two rimless glasses with thin, edgy glasses, totally unlike his former round glasses.  
  
And now to the tough part. Diagon Alley. He sighed.   
He casually strolled through the streets of London, taking in the sun and people around him. Normal people, no one cared nor knew who he was. It was so refreshing...  
  
When he finally stood in front of the _Leaky Cauldron_, he gathered himself and made sure his scar was well hidden under his hair mop and the cap and entered it.   
Today looked like a busy day. It was bustling with wizards and witches, chatting avidly with themselves. But one looked at him twice.   
He walked towards the gateway without slowing down, and soon was in the Alley. It, too, was bustling with people. He quickly scanned the crowed and luckily he didn't make out someone familiar.   
He quickly made his way to Flourish & Blotts and dived into their trove of knowledge. Digging through the vast amounts of books, he found some very interesting ones. _Spells O' Power And How To Use Them_ by Diara Chressy, _Advanced Spells For The Eager Wizard_ by Hiarat Tshul, and _101 Powerful Defenses_ by Sarah Lystrom were among the most promising books.   
All in all, he lugged over thirty books, including his schoolbooks for next year, to the check-out. The cashier looked at him curiously as if she remembered him, but then shook her head, and went on. She gave him a bottomless bag to carry it all with him and he left the store before she had time to concentrate on where she knew him from.  
  
The visit to _Madam Malkin's_ had him worried the most. He tried to keep his stay there as short as humanly possible. Still it took almost one hour until he had chosen on some new, tailored robes and school outfits. His new outfits would sent Ron into fits of jealousy, he was sure...  
He paid an extra fifty percent to have them made on the spot so he could take them with him and not to have to wait for hours.  
  
He rushed through several other shops afterwards, getting his other necessities for the next year and some other things he thought useful.

And suddenly, he stood in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley.   
He shivered. He didn't know what led him here, but some part of him made him come. It was a place of Dark magic, but why should he limit himself to light and friendly magic? Surely Voldemort had no problems using it on him, and somehow he was sure that all those Defense against the Dark Arts books left out some details and useful information. Maybe it was better to look at the source, the real deal? Isn't it best to fight fire with fire?   
If his 'friends' could see him now... They would possibly wet their pants right now.   
_The next Dark Lord, I knew it!_ he heard Ron in his mind. He snickered.

He relaxed himself and went into the Alley. The shops were dark, murky, often dirty, unlike their counterparts in Diagon Alley with their sickening warmth and gaudy colours.   
He came across a smaller shop with several books on display, along with obscure machineries and some ugly looking animals which spiked his interest. He opened the door and went in.   
It was a shadowy place and the dust of what felt like aeons lay on the furniture and shelves.  
"Can I help you?" a husky voice said from the darkness startled him and he yelped with shock as he nearly jumped into a shelf.   
An ancient witch stepped out of the shadows, a friendly smile on her face. She made Dumbledore look young and fresh in comparison, her eyes a very dark brown and sunken deep in her face...   
"Oh, I'm sorry if I surprised you. I always forget my manners..."   
"Eh, yeah," he stammered. "I...I'm looking for things...books, I won't get in Diagon Alley..."   
"Oh, I have many things..." she smiled.   
"I am interested in...books about the Dark Arts..." he almost whispered.   
"A yes..." she eyed him for what felt like an eternity. Then suddenly her face lit up as if something she saw in him made her trust him. "Yes, I can help you there, just give me a minute..." she said and went back into the shadows behind her desk.   
After several minutes, she emerged again from her shadowy realm, carrying a large stack of books. They were all looking dark and dangerous, many plain black, or embellished with runes, some with gruesome moving scenes...   
"Here, young boy, I hope you'll like them..." she rasped and shoved them over the desk.   
Harry looked at them and they were indeed dark. Very dark. His hand slightly shivered as he was to touch the first one. The dark aura was almost tangible. He bit down his fears and hesitation and grabbed the first one. _I need to know!_ _The 101 Most Painful Spells_; _Dark Arts – An Exhaustive Overview_ was the next he took a look at. They all sounded very dangerous.  
"I'll take the lot," he said, his voice now firm and determined. "A pity I can't practise undetected..."  
"Undetected?" a snicker emerged from her tiny mouth. "Let me check, I might be able to help you there..." She went back into her back store and returned after a few seconds. She put a small vial on the desk.   
"What's that?" Harry asked.  
"A powerful potion, very few know about it or can brew it. It let's you do magic without anyone detecting it, even the ministry. Just a few drops on your wand and you'll be safe for several hours... But it is very expensive, my young friend."   
_That would be perfect!_ He could practise, and wouldn't be expelled by Hogwarts for underage wizardry.   
"I take it."   
"Very well," she said. He paid for it, it was a rather prohibitive bill, and put it all away in his bottomless bag. Useful invention, really.   
Just as he was to leave the store, he heard a whisper. It called for him. Master? it seemed to whisper.   
He flipped around and looked into eyes so green they were almost glowing in the dark.   
"Who is there?" he said towards the eyes. He walked slowly towards them, they were glowing, calling to him.   
"Careful!" the old witch cried out. "This is very dangerous!"  
"Huh?" Harry managed to say.  
"This is a very dangerous creature. A Chinese obsidian snake. They're terribly poisonous, and very rare. Very few people live to tell about them, and even fewer manage to capture one. They're even rumoured to have some magical abilities..."  
Harry barely heard her as he was mesmerized by the eyes.   
Are you my master? he heard her say. I could be, if you want, he answered her in parseltounge, oblivious to the sudden shocked deep breath the witch took besides him.   
Yes, I want a master again...   
Harry's hand reached out without fear or hesitation and she slithered up his arm until her head rested on his shoulder. Her dark black hide, so black it seemed like liquid black oil, felt refreshingly cold against his skin. She was beautiful, without a single imperfection and nearly three feet long.   
What is your name? he asked the snake.   
Chien-Liu, she whispered in his ear. Suddenly aware of the witch besides him again, he looked her into her wide open eyes.  
"I'll take the snake, as well. How much?"  
"500-500 galleons," she stammered. He paid her, and left the shop.   
The old witch kept standing there, mouth gaping open, even after Harry was well on his way home.

Hiding Chien-Liu in his bag, he made his way back to his home and immediately went to his suite. He was beaming from ear to ear.   
He felt like a completely new person, and couldn't wait to start reading his books...

###

Harry was woken by the first rays of the sun and nearly flowed out of his bed.   
The weeks had flown past and it was now only a day before the school would start again.   
He went into the bathroom and smiled at what he saw.   
Besides reading, reading, and reading some more, he had also started working on his body.   
Six days of the week, he would get up, eat something, and then did his Tai- Chi exercises, which his fitness trainer had recommended for him. He had soon found out that it did not only calm him down, it also concentrated his mind and though he couldn't specify it, his magic felt...stronger...   
Until late afternoon, he would spend studying his books and practising some with his wand – the potion really did work perfectly – and then would go in the gym for two or three hours.   
It had been tedious, painful, but it also paid off.   
He wasn't the scrawny, slightly geekish boy he was weeks earlier. After another growth spurt, he now stood slightly less than six feet, and had gained several pounds of muscles, even forming a solid six-pack he was very proud of, though he had to admit that without some magical help his muscles wouldn't have reacted just as eagerly to his training as they did.   
His hair, which had grown to his shoulders with the help of a hair-grow potion was now a thick, slightly curly mane, framing his face perfectly.   
And without the glasses, his eyes stood out even more.   
All in all, he now was what he heard people call a 'hunk'.   
He knew spells and curses he hadn't even heard before, knew things that would send Ron into spasms of fear...   
He was as far away from 'Old' Harry as physically possible. He doubted anyone would recognize him now...   
He was ready for whatever the world could throw at him...  
  
When it was time, he called for a cab and had his expanded belongings brought down. He even had had to buy a second trunk to take all things with him.   
He waved the receptionists good-bye and left the Savoy with a smile on his face.   
He got into the cab and drove to King's Cross Station. It would be a very interesting meeting at the platform.   
He chuckled, without a trace of the old Harry.


	4. Meeting Old Friends

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: I have a plot, and I'm not afraid to use it :) We'll be meeting his friends, and dear Draco for the first time. I hope it's enjoyable... And if you spot mistakes, just tell me :)

###

The short trip to the train station was very uneventful. He watched people on the streets, enjoying themselves in the sunny day. If he only could, too...   
The cabby sadly was of the chatty sort and kept pestering Harry with some in-detail description of his latest holidays in Brighton. He kept a polite smile on his face and nodded at the right times but didn't really listen.

He was more concerned with the upcoming reunion with his friends. If they still were that. He wasn't sure what he should think. He had changed, sure. But would they understand it?   
His hand caressed Chien-Liu, who was lying inside a backpack on his seat. He could go on alone, he knew. But if he could still get some help, it couldn't hurt, now could it?   
The sudden stop of the cab jerked him out of his thoughts. The cabby heaved his trunks out of the cab and onto a trolley. Harry paid his fare and added a large tip to it.

He walked towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾, deeply in thoughts.   
He registered other witches and wizards on their way to the Hogwarts Express, but no one did seem to recognize him. His muggle-style clothes did help him there, as well. Wearing a black pair of trousers and a tight-fitting midnight-blue silk shirt showing almost every detail of his trained body, he got the attention of some girls, and even .   
Without attracting too much further attention, he swiftly pushed his trolley through the barrier and then went through himself.   
There was the usual hubbub. Parents, hugging their children tightly as if they left for a death march to the north pole, children running around and generally annoying their parents and other grown-ups. He pushed his trolley along, trying his best not to hit anyone.   
The people here were looking with a strange expression on their face. They still didn't recognize him, with his long hair and without his telltale glasses, but his muggle-style clothes made him stand out in the sea of robes and wizard clothing.   
He saw some of his fellow classmates, having great fun. Somewhere down the platform he made out a group of Slytherins, possibly even Malfoy. There weren't all that many fair-haired snake-heads...   
He brought his trunks to the baggage wagon, and then walked back to get on the train. A certain voice made him stop in his tracks. "Ronald Weasley," the female voice cried out, "I don't know why I still stick around you!"  
"But Hermione!" the distinct voice of Ron exclaimed. "It is true. He won't show up! Or did _you_ see him?"   
"Come on, Ron, you know that's rubbish. He likes the school as much as we do, and he promised Dumbledore."  
The last sentence sent icy shivers down his spine. _They are talking about me._ _I wonder..._   
He moved closer and tried to look unobtrusive until he could see the source of the voices. Standing behind a large cart, he made out Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and some of his fellow Gryffindors. They were chatting lividly, and it seemed he was the topic. "Just look at the attitude he showed towards Lupin, and Dumbledore, even."  
"Well, you have to understand Harry," Ginny interjected. "It wasn't easy for him. And that he wasn't allowed to spend the summer with us, you, didn't help the situation either..."  
"But to run away?"   
He felt hot anger flash through him. _How dare he!_   
With two quick steps, he walked out of his cover and stood before them. They eyed the interloper warily.   
"Eh, sorry," Ron said, clearly not recognizing Harry, "this is sort of private..."   
It was almost comical. His so-called best friend didn't even recognize him. Hermione's eyes darted across his face and body, clearly seeing something. She was trying to say something, but Harry was quicker.  
"Ronald," he said with a frosty voice. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. And the things you said were...refreshing. And if you say I ran away one more time, you're going to...regret it," he smiled a very thin smile.   
"You-Harry?" he stammered, sudden realisation hitting him with force. "But-I thought-I didn't mean-"   
"From the way you were talking, you did mean it. I expected better of you..." He turned his head towards the others. "Hermione. Ginny," he nodded at them, and even cast a real smile at Ginny.   
"What happened to you? Where have you been?" Hermione asked. "I mean, look at yourself!"  
He smiled at her. "Life happened," he simply said.   
"That's all?" Ron asked. "You don't have anything else to say? Why didn't you even write us?"  
"After your letters," Harry snapped, "I don't felt exactly like writing you. But now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get on the train before I miss it."   
Ignoring the incredulous stares of his friends, he walked towards the train.  
  
He walked through the wagon, trying to find an empty compartment. Suddenly, the corridor was blocked as two huge lumps of flesh got in his way that heven't been there seconds ago.   
"Who are you?" Goyle asked slowly.   
"And what do you want here," Crabbe piped in.   
Harry sighed. Great, just what I need. _Dumb, and Dumber...  
_ "Get out of my way," he said with just a trace of steel in his voice. "I don't have time for this..."   
"We don't-"   
They never saw it coming. One moment, solidly standing there like huge rocks, the next moment swiped off their feet by a powerful stunning spell. Harry put his wand away, and stepped over the now stunned Slytherins.   
"I warned you," he sighed.   
"Harry!" he heard Hermione cry from behind. "What did you do?" she pointed at the two boys.  
"None of your business, Hermione."   
Without one further word, he walked on, still looking for an empty compartment.   
Master, he heard Chien-Liu whisper from his backpack, were those your enemies? Should I kill them?   
No, he answered. They're not worth the effort. I think it's time you came out of your hiding. Must be terribly confined in there.   
Yes, it would be nice...   
The snake slithered out of her hiding, and after some movements, coiled herself around his left arm, her head on his neck pointing forward.  
  
###  
  
He was sick with frustration. He had begged, whined, even cried at his mother, but to no avail. She wouldn't let him go to Durmstrang.   
"Draco, my dear," his mother had said without any warmth in it, "you will go to Hogwarts. I won't go trough all this hassle and paperwork just so you don't have to face your fellow classmates. You're a Malfoy. Try to take it like one."   
And so he did. He had no other choice.

Ever since that foul Potter ruined his father, his life had been on a constant downhill slide. Once he was a proud Slytherin, the pinnacle of power in his house, and now? Now I was looked down upon, even laughed at. Surely, whoever did it regretted it seconds later, but before that dreadful summer, no one even dared to begin with!  
  
His father disappointed the Dark Lord. He failed him. And one just doesn't fail the Dark Lord. His father had been silent all the time, and did not give away any secrets or outed any other Death Eater. If he had sung, Draco was sure he would have to face more than just laughs and jokes at his cost.   
His friends, if they could be called friends at all, had been told all about it by their parents. And some liked the fact that he now was assailable and not longer under the protective umbrella of his fathers. Some remembered the things he did to them.  
  
Not that his mother would care. Oh no.   
She was never a Death Eater, though she still felt that some issues they were addressing were righteous ones. Who would want mudbloods in the same schools as respectable wizards like her son, anyway?   
His mother was all about appearance and status. That was what defined her. The moment Lucius Malfoy got caught her status within the wizarding world dropped like a rock. No one in his right mind would want to get tainted by being seen with a Malfoy, at least in the open.   
She didn't get any invitations to dinner parties anymore. They got unfortunately lost in the mail. And whenever she was inviting people to Malfoy Manor, there was some incredibly urgent business they had to take care of.   
She tried to cover it up under her arrogance and composure, but Draco could see right through her. She was devastated and once, just barely, saw her cry when she thought no one was watching her.   
She would never forgive Lucius for what he did.  
  
And now, he was standing alone on platform 9 ¾, waiting for his year of hell to begin.   
His fellow Slytherins just snickered when they saw him, or just ignored him.   
"Malfoy," the slimy voice of Zabini cut through his thoughts. "Had pleasant holidays? Did you visit your dear father in Azkaban" He laughed, and several people around him, fell in with the laughter. "How does it feel to be the son of a half-assed old git?"   
"Shut it," he drawled and pulled his wand out. "You'll regret it, I swear..."   
"We'll see," he sneered. But suddenly Zabini seemed to loose interest in him.   
"Who's that?" he asked, pointing at a tall boy, dressed in a very classy midnight-blue shirt walking through the crowd some distance from them.   
"Dunno," Pansy Parkinson said. "He seems familiar, but I can't say for sure..."   
Draco used their diversion to get away from them. But he had to admit, the strange boy really was familiar. He just wasn't able to put him anywhere...   
He followed the boy carefully.   
He watched in stunned silence as he went to the Weasel and the Mudblood. He seemed to know them, at least that's what he could determine from the way they talked to each other... Now, if only the Wonder Boy was there as well.   
And then it hit him like a wall..._Impossible! It can't be!_   
But black hair, the face hidden under it... It all fit. _Potter?_   
There seemed to be some tension between him and his usual sidekicks, too. Jealousy? He wasn't sure...   
Moments later, Potter, if he truly was Potter, turned on his heels and made for the train. Draco did likewise, entering the wagon at the other end. But before he could squeeze into an empty compartment, Crabbe and Goyle came from the other wagon into this one and pushed him into the wall. "Oh, sorry," they mumbled. "Didn't see you there..."   
They wouldn't have dared a stunt like that last year. Damn his father!  
  
"What you're doing?" he snapped annoyed.  
"Looking for this new boy," Goyle slowly answered. "And asking him some questions..."   
Draco pondered about this for a moment. This was even better than his original plan. Let the two buffoons ask that new Potter. "Good thinking," he expertly lied. He was sure the only thing they were able to think about was food, food, or maybe even food.   
He stepped back, so that he was hidden from view, and waited. He heard Crabbe and Goyle talk to the new boy. He answered something, but it was too subdued for him to make it out.   
And the next thing he knew Crabbe and Goyle crashed on the floor. Wha tPotter said then was clear as crystal and easily understood. "I warned you," Potter said, without trembling of anger or fear.   
Something was very wrong here, and he didn't like it one bit.   
He raced into the next wagon as stealthily as he could and went into a compartment, already occupied by Parkinson. She just looked up, shook her head and went back to reading a potions book.  
Just moments after he was safely in his seat, Potter, and he knew now that it was him, strode past.   
It was stunning. No boyish uncertainty, no smile on his face, just a cold, determined mask.   
Then his mind realised something else. There was a, a snake coiled around his arm? He rubbed his eyes, but the snake was still there.... And Potter spoke with her.  
  
This was going to be a very unusual year, now more than ever...


	5. Back to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Finally, I managed to get this written. Had a bit of Real Life happening...  
If you spot mistakes, please flame me :) And thanks for the reviews, they really give a warm fuzzy feeling :D  
hmm: Unless I'm terribly mistaken, the only other parent to have taken part in the department of mystery raid besides Malfoy was Crabbe. And he doesn't seem to be the brightest of the lot. Besides, the higher you are, the deeper you fall :)

Chapter 5

Harry spent the rest of the trip to Hogwarts in solitude.   
Whenever someone walked by and wanted to enter, one glance of him sent them away. Or they were afraid of his pet snake curled up in his lap, he wasn't sure. In the end, he didn't really care why. He was just happy to be left alone. Normally, Ron, Hermione and the other usual suspects would sit around him, laughing, talking and generally enjoying themselves. Somehow, he didn't feel like it. It distracted him too much.   
And after the latest encounter with Ron and Hermione he wasn't looking forward to the next. _If they won't accept me the way I am now, why bother with them at all?_ A small part in him whispered 'because they're you're friends'. But he did away with the thought.   
After this summer, the thought of being alone wasn't so new to him. He had done quite well without them.   
He laid his head back into his seat and looked out of the window and at the countryside speeding past. Soon his thoughts wandered off and he slumbered into deep sleep.  
  
###  
  
Twack.   
The sound of Ginny's slap on the back of his head filled the compartment. "You dolt," she snapped.   
"What?!" Ron gasped. "I didn't do anything wrong!" He looked at her with wide eyes  
"You had to jump him right into the face, hadn't you?" Ginny's eyes were glowing hot with anger. "I didn't!"  
"Oh, you did. He's been away for the whole summer, because we weren't there for him. We left him, what was he to think? And when he comes back, you go apeshit."  
"We left him? He ran away. Dumbledore said-"   
"Yeah, he did. That doesn't change that we left Harry out to dry in this terrible muggle house." Ron looked at Hermione for support, but she just ignored his attempt. She seemed to be thinking about something, as she usually did.   
"And look at him now. All preppy clothes, throwing around his money like there is no tomorrow."  
"So? What's wrong with that? It's not his fault he has it in the first place. And everyone's allowed to change."  
"He's not the Harry I was friend with. Not after the way he treated us at the platform."  
"You sure you were on the same platform as I was?" Ginny sighed. "All I ask is to give him a chance. He's been through a lot, you know that."  
Ron pouted. "Sure. Whatever."  
"You're absolutely hopeless. Sometimes I ask myself if we're really related..."  
  
###  
  
"Who did you say did this to you?" Zabini eyes were thin slits as he looked at the still groggy forms of Crabbe and Goyle.   
"That new boy, just blasted us. We were just talking to him..."   
"Talking, as if you could," Zabini sneered. "But who's the guy, anyway? Somehow I feel like I know him."   
"Potter," Malfoy simply stated. All eyes swivelled to him. Some showed honest shock, while others, like Parkinson or Zabini looked as if Malfoy just ripped the veil off of the obvious.   
"How do you know?" Zabini asked with a derisive smile on his otherwise good- looking face. "Did you run to the new boy to suck up to him, looking for new friends, huh?"  
"Just shut it," Draco snapped. "One day you'll regret it, I swear..."   
"When big Daddy comes out of prison? I doubt it. Face it, Malfoy, without Daddy you're just as normal as we are, and you have to play by our rules. A new thing for you, I know, but we sure will help you." Several of the Slytherins snickered.   
_He will pay for it. I won't be ridiculed._   
But for now, he had to play along. He had to face the hard truth: they were everything he had. He couldn't go anywhere else.   
Sure, they weren't as pure as freshly fallen snow, either, but they also haven't been in such a high profile as he had been. And Draco had to admit, he had liked it. The power, the control, how he was the 'Prince of Slytherin'. But as he knew now, and if he was true to himself knew it all along, it wasn't his power. It was his father's. Now that he has fallen from grace...   
It was always easier to point to others,to distract from one's own guilt, and so they pointed to him, the most prominent; and they were glad people weren't looking as closely at them as they were at Draco.   
Until a time when all that changed...  
"I saw him with Weasley and Granger," Draco finally said. "Though they weren't all friendly." "Well, you may be right after all now that I think of it... Black hair, and his face... He has truly changed a lot." "  
And blasted us into the next wall!" Crabbe cried.   
Zabini dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "Potter wouldn't do that. I mean they way you told it, he wasn't in his usual furious-teenage state. If you two told the truth," he looked at Crabbe and Goyle.   
"We did! He was very calm, and then he blasted us like, like a Slytherin would..."  
"We got to tell Snape," Parkinson said, snuggling up to Zabini. "He'll give Potter detention for the next weeks. No Gryffindork attacks us and gets away with it."  
"That is a good idea, my dear, but we should also consider something more creative to...repay him."   
And off they went into a conspiratory little chat on how to attack Potter without getting caught.

Sure, it would be very, very nice if Potter did meet an untoward end. But they way the universe seem to side with him, he doubted it would happen.   
It was Potter, who brought his father into Azkaban. So it was just too easy to blame him. Not that he really missed his father a lot. He never has been the loving kind, and only acknowledged Draco when he did something extraordinary.   
But blaming Potter was the easy way. It all came down to the Dark Lord. He started it all with the death of Potter's parents. And it wasn't Potter who sent the Death Eaters into the Ministry. It was Voldemort. Killing Potter wouldn't help himself, or anyone, except the Dark Lord.   
And he wasn't to be used again, he had enough of that. It may even have been a good thing his father was gone. He would have to learn to rely only on himself.   
_Now that's a refreshing thought..._  
  
###  
  
The train slowed down and soon came to a stop at Hogsmeade station.   
The hordes of students fought their way out of the train and drowned the station in a hurricane of voices and laughter.   
The first years looked around awestruck, especially the muggle-borns.   
From the corner of his eye he saw a group of Slytherins coming out of the train. They were whispering avidly among themselves, and it seemed some, Zabini at least, were looking in his direction. He took a closer look, and he made out Crabbe and Goyle among them. They seemed to have recuperated from his spell and were glaring at him. They meant trouble, but they were nothing he couldn't handle. _Ah well, next time they'll have more to worry than being stunned_. He smiled a very cold smile.   
What did surprise him was Malfoy. He wasn't in the thick of it, but standing slightly outside the main group. It almost seemed as if he didn't pay any attention to their chatter. Their eyes locked for a split second, and it sent a bolt of surprise down his spine.   
No Malfoy sneer, no arrogant smile. Just eyes cold, calculating. He already missed the sneer. This Malfoy smelled like trouble.   
_He can't be so stupid to try and get me for his father's prison time?_   
His thoughts were drawn away from Malfoy when he heard the booming voice of Hagrid. "First Years, this way!" he shouted. towering in the ocean of midgets. Several of them looked very afraid at the half-giant who smiled down on them.   
Harry walked over to Hagrid. He wasn't sure why, but he thought he might give it a try. He still considered him to be a close friend. Maybe he will be able to accept him the way he was now.   
"Hello Hagrid," he said cordially.   
The half-giant looked down, and one could see cogwheels turn inside his thick skull, and then it seemed to click.   
"Harry!" he beamed. "Good ter see yeh again! Yeh changed a lo', boy!"   
"Yes, so I did."   
"I'm so sorry I couldn' meet yeh this summer. Have been busy. Yeh know, my half-brother and all. Tried some family time with him in the forrest. He seems ter be slowly recognizing me. Dumbledore helped a lo' there, too." He seemed to see Harry's mood darken slightly. "Oh, sorry there, too. I said ter Dumbledore, I did, that he shouldn't keep yeh out as he did. But he really thought yeh'd be better off."  
"Yes, I heard that line quite often lately." Hagrid, at least, didn't seem to care about his new appearance. And it wasn't so surprising. He was a man who liked to have the most wicked, dangerous creatures around and still loved them...   
"Hagrid!" his attention was dragged back to the here and now as Hermione came running towards Hagrid. "I missed you!" she smiled. Ron came up behind her. When he saw Harry his face tightened into a forced smile.   
"Hello Hagrid," then he turned slightly to Harry, and simply nodded.   
Hagrid seemed to be oblivious to the tension between them and was too excited about the new year. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as Hagrid kept talking about 'interesting animals'. His idea of interesting usually didn't meet most people's definition of interesting. He just hoped he would survive contact.   
"Oy, sorry," Hagrid suddenly realised he wasn't here for chatting alone. He stooped slightly, "Almost forgot about the first years," he whispered. "I'll see yeh at the Feast."   
He turned around and boomed at the band of first years clustered around him. Soon they were out of sight as Hagrid led them to the boats.

He got to the next free carriage and climbed aboard. The Thestrals were patiently waiting n front of it. Riding them was fun. He remembered the last, and so far only, time he did it. If he hadn't been as worried as he had back then he was sure he would have enjoyed it. It wasn't like riding a broom, but flying was fun in and off itself. Suddenly, the door opened and Ginny Weasley climbed in.   
"Hi Harry," she smiled. "Do you mind?" she pointed at the seat next to him.   
"No," he flatly said. "I can't stop you, can I now?"  
"Oh, come on Harry," she sighed. "Lighten up. I'm not Ron. I already whacked the oaf. I still like you, you know that?"   
"Sorry," he weakly smiled. "It's just not my year."   
"I know, and I'll be at your side when you need me. Ron will calm down soon. I'm sure. He's just his usual self right now."   
"We'll see," Harry answered ambiguously.  
  
###  
  
The large tables were already packed with students as Harry walked into the Great Hall with Ginny.   
He looked up at the enchanted roof. It was the same roof as always, but somehow it wasn't as mystic, as magical as before. He finally had found the time, and more importantly the nerve, to read _Hogwarts – A history._ And while it held many useful and interesting tidbits, it also took away some of the magic in his eyes. But you can't undo the past...   
Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were ignoring him for the most part, and were busy talking about their holidays, their friends, or whatever else has happened over the past weeks.   
He spotted Cho Chang among the Ravenclaws, and she was busy talking with Roger Davies, obviously about Quidditch the way Davies was making moves with his hand.   
The Slytherin group he remembered from the train station was looking at him with what could be called predatory grins. He waived at them, smiling thinly which seemed to surprise them quite a bit.   
And then there was his table. He could hear them whisper as he walked past, looking at him with very mixed feelings. He refused to acknowledge that and just strode to a free seat. It now seemed like a good idea to let Chien-Liu explore the castle a bit. He wasn't sure what the reactions to the snake would have been.   
He could see Ron and Hermione sitting down several seats and talking with Neville and Seamus. It was as if they were consciously trying to ignore him and he was only happy to reciprocate.   
Chatting a little with Ginny and some nervous second-year sitting across the table, he waited for the feast. The minutes went past, then the great doors swung open, and McGonagall lead the stream of first years to the dais and the sorting hat waiting for them.   
Looking past the sorting hat and the endless queue of first-years, he looked at the teachers. Snape, Hagrid, Binns, and all the other teachers from last year were there, except of course the foul creature Umbridge. From what he could see, Firenze and Professor Trelawney were arguing about something. He still wasn't sure how they could, or would, be able to teach Divinations together.   
But there was also one new addition, a dark-haired man sitting next to Hagrid. He seemed to be very tall, quite athletic and young compared to the other teachers. He guessed him at late twenties, early thirties. The eyes were hidden in the shadows of his long hair. He was good- looking, in a rugged kind of way, with an aristocratic nose and strong jaw bones. _I wonder who that is..._   
It took like ages to sort all the tiny first-years. As the cheers ebbed down, Professor Dumbledore stepped up to the lectern. He had aged considerably since the last time he saw him. There still was this twinkling in his eyes, but they were set deeper into his face. A gaunt face, like he had lost serious weight. _The war demands its tribute... From all of us_.   
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he started his speech as usual. His voice, though, was trembling slightly, sounding weak and frail. "I would like to address several points before the feast, my dear students. First of all, Mr. Filch has expanded the list of forbidden objects by quite a bit and it can be studied in his office. The teachers and I hope, that after our most creative students left us early last year," a wave of chuckles spread through the tables as they only to clearly remembered the now famous exit of the Weasley twins, "that not too many will try to take their place." He looked sternly at some of the students, their heads now shaded in a very slight pink. "Of course, the Forbidden Forest stays forbidden. And I hope this year it truly does. Secondly, I want to welcome a new teacher in our midst, Professor Ragdanovich."   
The gloomy looking man stood up, gave a curt nod and sat back down. Snape shot daggers from his eyes. "He was a teacher at Durmstrang, and after a sabbatical, I could win him over for our school. He will be your new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher and we have the highest hopes he will stay longer than his previous colleagues. And thirdly, I must remind you of the grave danger we are in this time. A war is waged outside this castle, in this world. We must stand strong against it, united. We must be careful, too much has been lost already." A deep sorrow seemed to lie down on him. "But enough of this. Enjoy the feast!"   
And with a wave of his hand, the tables were filled to the breaking point with food.  
  
###  
  
After a long feast, he walked into the common room of Gryffindor house. It was still packed with some of the older years, but he certainly didn't feel like chatting.   
He quickly walked upstairs, arranging his belongings and preparing for bed. Tomorrow would be a tough day. Potions, and Defence against the Dark Arts. _Wonder what the new teacher will be like..._ He crawled I his bed. It wasn't as comfortable as he was used to over the summer, but it would have to make do. _Funny, how quick you can adapt to luxury_.   
Chien-Liu snaked from the shadows up to him and roled himself up next to Harry's head.   
Soon, he was slowly gliding away into his dreams.


	6. Potions, a new start

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: a shorter one, but it just was easier to end it where it does. Slash will be coming, but I don't like to rush it thaat much :)

Chapter 6  
  
The next morning he got up early.   
He was used to his morning exercises by now. The others were still fast asleep.   
Dressing in sports wear, he slipped out of the Gryffindor Tower and went for a short morning run.   
The air was still a bit chilly, and the grass was moist from the dew. It was refreshing, and he felt at peace with himself and the world around him. He stopped under a large willow and after a short pause, did his Tai Chi exercises. They really did help him, and he needed any soothing he could get.   
Jogging back to the castle a good hour later, his mind wandered. It was just the first day, and he wasn't sure how he should survive the rest of the year. Ron seemed to be on a righteous quest to prove he's right and Harry is wrong. Hermione didn't seem to care either way. How he was supposed to work productively with any of them was beyond him...   
And then there was Malfoy. This other group of Slytherins didn't bother him. They were just not up to his level, he knew it. Malfoy though... He has always been very clever, but always limited by his own arrogance and superiority complex. But now that his father is out of the equation... _Maybe I did wake the sleeping dragon?_ He chuckled. Draco as a dragon. How fitting.  
  
When he came back into the Tower, he saw some students already walking around, though calling them awake would be a bit too much.   
He went straight to the showers and then got into his room to get dressed. His tailored school robes sure felt better and more comfortable than his previous ones. A good move to get them. He saw Ron moan and slowly climb his way out of his sleep.   
Master, will you go alone? Chien-Liu asked him from his position on his pillow.   
No, he answered. I don't see a reason why you shouldn't go with me. He extended his left arm and the snake slithered up the arm.   
"Now breakfast," he murmured to himself.  
  
The tables were slowly starting to fill as the students one by one came for their breakfast. Those who were awake were looking funnily at him as he strode purposefully to a free portion of the table.   
Getting himself a nice, strong tea and some toast he settled down and just enjoyed the breakfast. A slight pad on his shoulder nearly killed him. "Morning, Harry," Ginny chuckled. "Didn't mean to give you a heart attack."   
He took a deep breath. "You should be careful, really. Surprising people in the morning is one of the very quick ways to get killed."   
"Most aren't awake enough for it, so I think I'm safe."   
Both started to laugh. It felt good for a change.   
His mood suddenly darkened as he saw Ron and Hermione enter. He definitely wasn't in for another train wreck of a conversation.   
"Well, gotta go then," he said to Ginny and stood up. She tried to stop him, but he was quicker. He walked past Ron and Hermione without a word.   
"Did you see that snake?" Ron whispered to Hermione. "What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Harry ignored it, but Chien-Liu rose his head from Harry's shoulders, turned his head and hissed dangerously at Ron.   
Now, now, Harry said, patting the snake, please be nice. The people in his direct vicinity stopped dead in their tracks and some stared at him, questions forming in their heads.   
They knew, of course, that he was a Parselmouth, but up until now he never showed it as casually as now.   
Yes, Master, she lay her head back down. But he doesn't like me.   
Ignore it. He doesn't like a lot of things.   
  
He still had some time to kill, so he strolled around the castle for a while.   
He even managed to get to Snape's dungeon ten minutes early.   
Potions...   
Sure he had practised, of course, but it still remained his least favourite subject, with the possible exception of Divinations. _Broaden your minds!!_ still haunted his dreams from time to time...   
He placed his parchment roll with his homework on Snape's desk and then took his usual seat while the room started to fill, with the Slytherins being the first ones to come. Those select few Gryffindors and from the other houses, who wanted, or for some obscure reason had to do Potions came in a lot slower.   
He sat alone at his table and just waited. Curiously, Ron and Hermione came in. _Why Ron would take Potions?_   
Hermione and Ron sat together, and as far as he could tell, Longbottom was the only other one sitting alone. But he didn't dare sit next to him. He was still very happy with his life and didn't feel like ending it prematurely in a potions class.   
Suddenly the door flew open and Professor Snape came thundering through, his robes billowing behind him in his usual display of flashiness.   
"This will be a very demanding year," he said without any introductions or welcomes. "I won't accept failures or laziness. It is a privilege that you are allowed in my advanced classes. Don't fail me." His gaze fell on Harry and his mood immediately seemed to drop a few notches. "Now, it seems some of you think you can do it alone..."   
He looked at Longbottom and back at Harry. "I won't risk our lives with pairing Longbottom and Potter. Each of you is dangerous on his own. Together, you would bring this school down." The Slytherin side snickered. He scanned the classroom. "Longbottom, you'll pair with Granger, Weasley, you'll work with Potter."   
Ron started muttering.   
"No discussion, Weasley. Over here. Now."   
Ron submitted and trudged over to Harry's table. Meanwhile Snape looked closer at Potter. "What is this thing on your arm, Potter?"   
"A snake, Professor," Harry answered as one would answer someone asking which colour the sky was.   
Snape's face turned slightly pink. "I don't allow pets in here. Get it out!"  
"If you say so..." He told Chien-Liu to go outside and wait for him somewhere there and the snake slithered off his arm and out of the dungeon.  
The whole classroom stared, especially his Gryffindors.   
"10 points from Gryffindor, for disrespecting the teacher!"   
He turned towards the rest of the class still fuming slightly. "Today, you'll be learning a powerful transfiguration potion. The instructions," he tapped the wand on the board, "are here. The ingredients are on the cupboard. You have 50 minutes. Begin."   
He sat down at his desk and started reading the homework rolls.  
He and Ron didn't talk with each other. Instead they just tried to ignore each other as good as they could. But the tension could be cut with a knife. Ron's inept attempts at potion making didn't help either. When Ron cut one of their Aldara root into an unrecognisable pulp, his fuses blew.   
"For the love of Merlin," he hissed. "Can't you do it right? At least try to be productive! It can't be that hard..."  
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Ron cried out.   
"I am, unlike you, trying to get this potion right."   
"Silence!" Snape bellowed from his desk before Ron could snap back. "10 points from Gryyfindor for disturbing the peace of class."   
Ron and Harry glared at each other, and got back to work. If one could call it that.   
Whatever it was they brewed, it certainly wasn't what they were supposed to. Instead of a slightly green, clear liquid, theirs was a very thick, stinking goo.   
They bottled it and Harry carried it to Snape. After all brought in their bottles and were ready to leave, Snape called out for Harry. "Potter, you stay. The rest leave."   
He waited there until the dungeon was empty.   
"Potter, what is wrong with you?" Snape asked him, a curious expression on his face. Definitely not the usual Snape.   
"Nothing. Why should it?"   
"Well, there's your looks. But that doesn't interest me too much. But it was reported to me you attacked two of my students on the train. Care to explain, before I put you in detention?"   
"They were in my way, and didn't make way," Harry answered in very cold, calm voice. "They asked for it."   
Snape simply stared at him. "Something is wrong with you. And I intend to find out. Meanwhile, I'll give you one week detention with me, starting tonight at seven PM." He cleared his throat and took Harry's homework roll. "This interests me, as well. Who wrote it?" he demanded.  
"I did!" Harry answered. "You think I cheated?"  
"This is good, really good and well researched. Definitely something you haven't shown to be capable of in the last 5 years."  
"I wrote it. I had time for myself. Maybe that was a good idea."  
"Alone? Without your usual sidekicks? Maybe your stupid, rash, and irresponsible absence this summer did something good with you. Potter, good at potions. Who knew?" He simply looked incredulous. "And I'll dock more points if you and Weasley are disturbing this class one more time, understood?"   
"I was to ask you about this, Professor. I would like to have a new partner. Someone more productive. I can't do it properly with Weasley."   
Now Snape really looked like someone who just had been played a very cruel prank. "What?" he asked as if he heard something else.   
"I want a new potions partner."  
Snape was silent for a good minute or so before he spoke again. "I will think about it. Yes, I will. Expect my decision tonight. Dismissed."   
"Thanks," Harry turned around and left the potions dungeon, picked up Chien- Liu and hurried to Defense against the Dark Arts.


	7. Duels

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Another one. I quite like it... And for all those ROn-loving people: this is not the place for it. I hate him with a passion :D

**Chapter 7**

He waited a short walk away from the dungeon, hidden in the shadows together with Crabbe and Goyle. He had to wait longer than estimated for Potter. The boy had a satisfied smile on his face as he came around the corner. Shouldn't Snape have been punishing him? _Why is he smiling?_  
He moved into the small corridor as soon as he saw him. Crabbe and Goyle all but blocked the corridor.   
"Busy, Potter?" Zabini asked with a derisive smile on his face.   
Potter looked at each of them, and simply arched an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Zabini? Are you lost?"  
"No, you punk!" he snapped. "You picked on Slytherins. I just want to make sure it won't happen again!"  
"Ooh", Harry mocked him. "Those two buffoons can't speak for themselves?"   
Crabbe and Goyle were trying to push forward, but he restrained them. "Not yet," he hissed at them.   
"I can't hold them back all time, you know, Potter? So you better apologize and be a good boy."  
"I won't, but thanks for asking." He was trying to walk ahead, but was stopped by Crabbe. "We're not finished. I tell you when we are."  
"You're now the current Slytherin gang leader, huh?" Harry asked with a smirk on his face. "I didn't know Slytherin was _that_ desperate. Poor Snape..."  
"You...You....You'll regret that!"  
Potter sighed. "At least Malfoy was witty... You should go ask him how it is really done. This is just no fun."   
He was fuming. _How dare he?_ He should be shivering with fear, not taunting him!  
"When I'm done with you, you'll regret the day you're born!" he hissed and his hand grabbed Harry's robes.   
Then something happened with Harry. The smirk vanished like someone threw a switch and was replaced by a cold, dangerous stare. The snake, which was back on his arm after the potions lesson, hissed and their green eyes stared into his, as well.   
"_You_ threaten _me_?" Potter asked with a voice as cold as space. "I don't have patience for you. I tell you something. I' don't care about you. But if you cross my way again, if you so much as blink in the wrong direction, I will have you regret the day your parents thought about having a baby. Is that clear?"   
He shivered. He didn't want to. He wasn't afraid! But somehow, deep inside him, he was afraid of that Potter. He believed him.   
"Is there a problem, Potter?" Professor Snape's voice suddenly cut through the tension from behind Potter.   
"No, Professor," Potter said in the same cold voice, his eyes still glued to him. "  
No problem, Professor," he managed to say.   
"Good. Then why are you blocking the corridor? Off to your lessons!" he ordered. Harry pushed past Zabini and this time he let him pass.  
  
###  
  
Harry was still irritated as he entered the classroom for this year's first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. He always liked them, well, except Umbridge's lessons, of course. He was hoping Dumbledore did get someone who knew his stuff. The track record for it wasn't very trustworthy, though...   
The classroom was already packed with students from all houses. He took a free seat in the back row, and waited. Zabini and the goons came a few seconds after him. He just ignored them.   
It wasn't long thereafter, as the door to the Professor's room opened and Professor Ragdanovich stepped out. He wore deep-black robes and looked like he was just about to cackle evilly.   
"Welcome to Defense Againt the Dark Arts," he finally spoke with a very thick Russian accent. He walked down the short staircase and came to a rest in front of his desk. "I have been told your last year wasn't very...informative."   
This brought a wave of hushed chuckles from the class.   
"I will try to fill this hole as good as I can. Book knowledge will only get you so far, and any villain or dark creature won't be impressed if you threw books at them. No. You also have to practice. Something this school neglected so far it seems. I have cleared it with Headmaster Dumbledore, and this year, there will be a training course with this class. A sort-of duelling class, if you will. It will start today, after lunch."   
The room was filled with whispers and surprised looks.   
"Many of you thought to have a free afternoon, so I'm afraid you will have to change any plans you might have."   
He sat on his desk and looked at the class. "Now, let us begin with a quiz, if you so will. What would you consider to be the one lesson you should have learned in a class like this?"   
Some looked confused, others were studying interesting parts of their desks, and others just stared at the wall. But there were also several hands in the air. Ragdanovich looked around, and pointed at one girl.   
"Yes, Ms...?"   
"Granger, Professor. And the answer is that one must know everything one has to know to solve the task at hand."  
"This isn't what I was looking for, Ms. Granger." Several snickers could be heard from the Slytherin side. It wasn't all too often that a teacher didn't like Hermione's answers. "As I said, knowledge doesn't solve everything. There are many situations you won't find written in books. Anyone else?"   
He motioned for Harry to answer. He considered himself to be really good at this, especially after what he's been through. "I would think that the one important thing is to be watchful, prepared and determined whatever you do." Ragdanovich looked approvingly.   
"Yes. Exactly. If you know how to kill, for instance, a vampire, the knowledge is useless if you aren't _aware_ that there is a vampire. Or that you are caught unprepared. And most importantly, if you aren't determined, _willing_, to do what you have to do. Always remember that!"  
  
The next half an hour he spent checking what they already knew and where they were not up to his standard.   
"STUPEFY!" Professor Ragdanovich's suddenly rang out, without warning, his wand pointed at Harry. Panicked shouts erupted across the class.   
"Protego!" Harry's voice cried out almost immediately after the stunning spell came flying at him. The red stunning bolt slammed harmlessly into the wall, and Harry lowered his protection field.  
"Brilliant!" The Professor clapped and smiled. "20 points to Gryffindor."   
"What the bloody hell-"Harry heard several class mates shout.   
"Just a test. You have to be on the watch on all time. No one asks nicely if they want to attack. They just do it. Mr. Potter seems to be prepared. I hope more of you are, too. Would be a shame if not."   
"But you attacked a student!" Hermione incredulously said.   
"Yes, I have. Expect the unexpected, Ms. Granger." His mouth twisted into a crooked grin.   
For the rest of the lesson, the students were all very aware of the teacher, and very, very wary. He did it two more times.   
The first to suffer was Dean Thomas. He managed to duck before the stunning bolt could hit him. Unfortunately, Neville sat behind him and unceremoniously slumped to ground as he was hit. And just five minutes before the end of class, Professor Ragdanovich lashed out at none other than Zabini. His wand wasn't even out when the bolt hit him. The whole Gryffindor side burst out in laughter. Luckily for Zabini, it was only a very weak stunning spell, so he was up again within a minute.   
Though, from the look on his face, he wished it would have been longer, especially after the Professor docked twenty points from Slytherin for being caught flat-footed.   
"Now," Ragdanovich said at the end of the lesson, "that was a very interesting one, don't you think? I look forward to our session after lunch. For now, we're done. Dismissed."  
The classroom slowly emptied itself, students avidly talking among each other.   
Harry waited a bit longer. He had to say that was a very unusual lesson. Not like he expected, but very much to his liking. A more practical part couldn't hurt. And this duelling class he had arranged sounded very intriguing. If Dumbledore knows he tests students by attacking them? Possibly. McGonagall and Snape will be furious, he was sure about it...   
A thought formed in his mind and he had to suppress an evil smile. _Why shouldn't I?_   
The classroom was now almost empty as he walked up to the Professor.   
"Could I ask you a question, professor?" he asked innocently.   
"Sure, any ti-"   
"Stupefy!" Harry's voice rang out and his stunning bolt missed the frantically ducking professor by just an inch. He heard the sudden gasps and shouts of the few students still in the room.   
"Potter!" Ragdanovich snickered as he got to his feet again. "Brilliant! I didn't think you were up to it so early. I might've been fooled by your Gryffindor do-gooder reputation. Would have guessed it would be a Slytherin who would dare..."   
"Expect the unexpected," Harry laughed.   
"Very good, Potter. There is still hope. Fifty points to Gryffindor. Was there really a question you had?"  
"No," he admitted. "But it was a good excuse."   
"It was... But now out, I have to prepare for later."  
  
###  
  
By lunch, seemingly everyone knew what he had done. Rumours truly travelled faster than light... He sat alone, but he still was aware of the curious stares he got, the whispers and hushed conversations while people shot glances at him. Some even looked afraid of him. He didn't care. Inside himself, he laughed, laughed loud. It was too funny. He really could get used to such a teacher...   
"Harry?" Hermione addressed him from behind. He looked up and saw her standing there together with Ron. "For a word?"   
He was just about to leave immediately, but he just sighed and nodded. "What do you want, huh?"   
"We want to talk. We haven't been off to a very good start it seems."   
"That's putting it quite nicely, yes."  
"We just want to understand, you know? We're still your friends." Ron seemed like he was about to say something, but suddenly stopped as something must have hit his shin. Hermione glared at him.   
"I just don't want to be the same old boy I was. I am a new Harry, if you will. I've seen too much to just go on. Can't you accept that?"   
"It's not easy, especially if you're all this haughty and cold towards us."   
"And a snake! And your clothes! You're like a bloody Slytherin-in-training now. Attacking a teacher to boot!" Ron spat out.  
"I'm free to wear what I want, am I not? I told you before, I don't need anyone's OK to change my style of clothing. And about my snake here? It's a pet! A pet! Do I hold you responsible for Scabbers?" He just sighed and looked back at Hermione. "But take it all as you will. People around me die. It always happens. It would be best for you if you stayed away from me. It is my fight, my life."   
"But we want to help you. We always have!" she pleaded.   
"I just need time. For myself. Alone. I can't promise you anything, maybe we'll come to a renewed friendship. Who knows? For now, it's best you stay away from me..."  
Hermione just looked sad. Ron was not quite easy to read. He wasn't sure. Anger, distrust, he couldn't really say. Harry stayed silent and they just stared at each other. Finally Ron and Hermione walked away from him, out of the Grand Hall.  
  
###  
  
After lunch, he walked to the room that has been modified to act as their duelling classroom.   
It was a rather large one, most likely magically resized to be bigger from the inside. The room was lighted by several large windows in the far wall, and a midnight-blue carpet covered the floor. It was dominated by five long pistes, where obviously the duels should be done.   
It was already quite packed with students. The motley group of students, mostly from Defense Against the Dark Arts, but also some additional students, were waiting in front of the first piste.  
Professor Ragdanovich was already waiting, surprisingly accompanied by Professor Snape. The professors waited for a few more minutes in silence, until the last student arrived. Waving his wand, Snape closed the doors.   
"Now that we're complete," Ragdanovich said, "we should start. Professor Snape here has been nice enough to help me here. I heard you had some bad experience with duelling classes before, but I hope we can manage that one here. So, to begin, you should do a bit practising in pairs to warm up, then we can get a bit afterwards. Begin!"   
A bit unsure what to do, the group slowly divided into pairs. Gryffindors kept mostly to themselves, with some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs mingled in. Only Slytherins were sticking exclusively together.   
Harry paired off with Kyle Moore, a nondescript Ravenclaw. He wasn't very practised, and he could have blasted him into next year if he so desired.   
Those who were in the DA had a head start when it came down to this kind of thing. They quickly 'warmed up'. It was mostly fun and laughter, as no one took it serious.   
Yet.   
After almost thirty minutes, Ragdanovich's voice boomed through the room. "Enough! Now we'll get to business. I'll be picking starting duellists and they'll be going onto the pistes. Those who win, stay and the opponent will be replaced by a new student. To make it interesting, each won duel will earn your house 5 points. The one, who earns the most, wins. Fun, isn't it?" he smiled crookedly again.   
Harry wasn't picked for one of the initial spots, but after the first round of duels found his way onto the piste.   
It was almost laughably easy. He sent student after student out of the match.   
Only Hermione gave him a serious run for his money so far. She was clever, and when she wanted to, quite tricksy. She nearly shot him out of it with a petrifying spell, but he managed to jump out of the way. It went on like this for quite a while. Spell, parry, counter spell. And it would have gone on for the rest of the day, hadn't Harry been truly lucky and slipped a stunning spell under her guard. He even had to wipe the sweat from his forehead.   
"Ah, wonderful!" Ragdanovich smiled. It seemed they went through all of the 'free' students some time later, and only those on the pistes remained standing.   
"Now you'll have to duke it out with the other ones. Who first? Potter and..."   
"Malfoy," Professor Snape smiled maliciously.   
Malfoy, quite unusual for his latest demeanour, had his trademark smirk plastered on his face. He moved forward, but was pushed back by Zabini. "I want him!"   
"This is not the time, Zabini!" Snape snapped.   
But before he could stop him completely, Ragdnaovich spoke. "Well, I guess if you absolutely want, you're welcome."   
Taking his chance, Zabini quickly was on Harry's piste.   
"Oh well," Snape just said.   
Harry looked at Malfoy and was surprised to see something he wasn't used to. The smirk was gone, replaced once again by the cold mask. And maybe a hint of sadness? He would have preferred Malfoy now. _Like the good old days..._   
But he still had a count to settle with Zabini. Harry smiled at him. Not a pretty one, but like a cat who had just been brought a canary on a silver plate.   
"Afraid, Potter?" Zabini sneered. _Not even close to Malfoy's slickness...  
_ "You wish," he responded with the proper answer.   
"On the count of three then!" Ragdanovich said.   
"One."   
"Two."   
"Thr-"   
Before the Professor had finished, Zabini had his wand pointed at Harry and his "Stupefy!" filled the hall.   
He possibly thought he surprised him with it. He didn't. He would have been surprised should Zabini really have waited for 'three' at all.   
So his stupefying bolt was brushed aside by Harry with contemptuous ease.   
Zabini had time to look surprised, before Harry had his wand ready and shouted "Expelliarmus!" The spell hit Zabini with incredible force and threw him high backwards. But Harry wasn't finished yet. While Zabini flew through the air, arms flailing wildly, another curse hit him, pushing him even farther backwards.  
As Zabini impacted the room's wall, the satisfying sound of breaking bone filled the room. Harry just sneered.   
Snape ran to Zabini who was already grabbing his broken left arm and tears welled up in his eyes. The slugs were also welling up, but out of his mouth.   
He had time to look at Malfoy before Snape would turn towards him and for a split second, he thought Malfoy was smiling at him. He slightly shivered. _Strange..._   
"POTTER!!" Snape shouted just on time. "What the bloody _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" "Winning a duel, Professor. At least that was my impression."  
"Your excessive use of violence was absolutely uncalled for! This will have consequences!"  
"It is not my fault if you let students into this unprepared, really."  
Snape was getting so red Harry was afraid he might just blow then and there.   
Professor Ragdanovich stepped in before Snape could. "A bit excessive yes, but _good_!"   
"Thanks, Professor," Harry politely answered.   
"Now, Severus, Zabini will be in good health soon enough. And he didn't play fair either. I think we call it even," Ragdanovich said to Snape.  
"I'll talk with the headmaster about this. Don't even doubt it!"  
"You're free to do so, Severus..." Ragdanovich answered.   
"I will."   
"Well, in the meantime, we should finish this. Who wants to go against Potter next?"


	8. A new Malfoy

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I'm just multitasking life :) Stuck between exams, projects, work, and life, but I managed to get this one done :D You asked for more Malfoy, and so it will be delivered. Thanks for all the reviews, they still give warm fuzzy feelings. Continue :D

**Chapter 8**  
  
After Harry had dealt with Zabini in the duel, the remaining students weren't exactly eager to go against him. After the incident, Snape made the Slytherins to withdraw entirely, much to their severe displeasure. The rest basically dropped their wands the moment Harry moved his.   
So, he 'won', without winning. Not quite what he wanted, but victory was victory, he wasn't complaining too loudly about it.  
  
The rest of the day he spent in complete solitude.   
Not only because he didn't encourage people to approach him, but mostly because they seemed to be slightly afraid of him. He had time to brood and to think. Especially about his upcoming detention with Professor Snape...  
  
He took a deep breath before he knocked on the door to the professor's dungeon.   
"Come!" he heard through the thick wooden door.   
As he went in, he saw Snape sit at his desk, and his worst fear was confirmed. He watched him approach with eagle eyes and smiled maliciously. Something unpleasant was lurking ahead, he just knew it.   
"Mr. Potter," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "such a pleasure to have you here tonight. Glad you could squeeze me into your schedule."  
"Oh, no problem, professor. I just love our _intimate_ meetings." He smiled crookedly.   
"I will get your arrogance out of you, oh yes, I will."  
"Well, only time will tell, won't it?"  
"Enough, Potter!" he jumped out of his chair. "Now, about your detention. See that old cupboard over there?" He pointed at a very grimy, decrepit cupboard. "It hasn't been cleaned in some time. You'll have the honour," he chuckled and handed him a toothbrush. "Here, your cleaning equipment." Laughing loudly, he sat back and watched him.  
  
Minutes seemed to stretch to hours, and hours to eternity. Harry ignored the sneer and frequent chuckles from Snape as he watched Harry clean the cupboard. When he was nearly done with the cupboard, there was a knock on the door.   
"Ah yes," Snape muttered. "Just wait a second," he shouted to the stranger outside his dungeon. "You remember I told you I'll think about a new partner for your potions lessons."  
"Yes, Professor?"   
"I have thought about it. And despite your despicable actions today, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I really love what I teach, even though you may still think differently in your arrogance, and maybe there is a slim chance that you might have the potential for it. So, I have given you a new partner." He turned to the door. "Come!"   
The door opened and Harry gasped.   
"Potter?" The arrogant voice of Draco Malfoy drawled.   
"Malfoy?" he heard himself say incredulously. Both turned to Professor Snape who laughed.   
"That alone was worth it, Potter! This is your new partner."  
"But Professor! That can't be right!" both boys cried out at the same time.   
"Both of you have trouble with your current partners. You either take this chance, or it's your old partner. Take it, or leave it. Now if you want to talk about it, you're welcome. Your detention for tonight is over. We'll see us tomorrow afternoon, Potter. Now off you go, both of you."

They stood outside of Snape's dungeon and simply stared at each other. Here he was, face-to-face with his arch-enemy for the last five years. Normally, Malfoy would sneer at him, and he would glare back. Words would fly, insults exchanged, emotions soar, and then they were off to different ways.   
This time was different. He had no idea how long they just stood there in silence.   
Malfoy had grown a bit over the summer, but Harry was slightly taller. His hair was as impeccable as always. He looked like he always did, except the eyes. They caught his eyes in the duel room before. They were almost...human. Innocent. He was sure, if he stared long enough, he could get lost in them.   
"You changed," Malfoy's drawl cut through his mesmerized stare.   
"So did you," he answered him.   
They kept on staring for a few more seconds.   
"Why?" Malfoy asked, and he seemed to be honestly interested.   
"Things...happened. What about you?"   
"You happened," he coldly answered. His eyes got an icy touch, but them warmed suddenly again.   
"It wasn't my fault. Your father-"  
"I know. I had time to think. I can't hold you responsible for things that were not in your control..." He sighed. "So, we're now pairing off in potions? Or will you _weasel_ out of it?"  
Harry unsuccessfully tried to suppress a chuckle. "No, I won't..._weasel_ out of it. I grew past this animosity. It's not important. Only the future is. I am willing to work with you, despite our less than stellar past."  
Malfoy inclined his head slightly then suddenly smiled. Harry was stunned. Malfoy could smile? And it was beautiful... "Only the future counts... I like it..." He extended his hand, like he did all those years back in Madam Malkin's.  
This time, Harry took it.  
  
###  
  
Tuesday wasn't going to be his favourite day of the week.   
He never has been really fond of Herbology. A fact that wasn't changed by his realisation that he shouldn't be ignoring it just because it wasn't his favourite subject. Oh, he tried. He tried hard. And he managed to understand most of what Professor Sprout was telling the class. Though try as he might, he couldn't find a possible use for sap-spraying fungi. Neville, on the other hand, was so excited he beamed like a light bulb.  
  
History of Magic was worse, by far.   
Instead of doing stupid games with Ron – an option he currently didn't have - or just chat with other students, he tried to listen to Professor Binns and take notes.   
He nearly failed. The droning voice, the dullness...His eyelids slightly shuddered as he fought with them to keep his eyes open. Thirty minutes into the lesson, he was close to loosing the battle. How he managed to get through he didn't know. Determination? Resistance? Indifference? He was just happy he didn't fall asleep...   
All in all, it was a totally wasted day. The next detention with Snape didn't lighten his mood one bit. After cleaning that one cupboard, Snape found him another one to clean...   
To salvage at least something, he did some extended jogging and did exercises in the gym for Quidditch teams.  
  
His social interaction with his fellow Gryffindors was barely present. Ginny was the only one who still sought him from time to time. But she seemed to have found herself another boyfriend. He wasn't sure, but he certainly was no Gryffindor. She was hardly present in the tower...   
He tried to spend as much time as he could in the library, or training. When he went to bed, there were only some 7th years still up and playing wizard's chess. They just looked curiously at him as he strode up to his bed room and went to sleep.  
  
###  
  
The next day held another double potions in store for him. And he had seriously mixed feelings about it. Working with Malfoy... He would have killed himself last year before even contemplating it. Now it just felt strange, funny, new. He didn't fear what might happen. In fact, a part of him looked forward to it. The New Malfoy was intriguing.  
  
When he finally reached the Potions dungeon, he sat down at an empty table and prepared his stuff. The dungeon slowly filled itself with people. Happy looking Slytherins, brooding Gryffindors, and the usual mix of other students.   
As most of the students had found their places, Malfoy entered. He could see some sneers from Gryffindors, and some of the Slytherins, especially Malfoy's former 'friends', like Crabbe and Goyle, and, of course, Zabini.   
As Malfoy sat down besides him nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the universe, the class room fell silent; you could hear the grass grow.   
After the initial shock, a storm of whispers and hushed conversations erupted.   
"Potter," Malfoy drawled in what could be considered a friendly tone. He still hadn't any experience with Malfoy in normal conversations...   
"Malfoy," Harry answered equally polite.   
"What the –"he heard Ron shout from behind him.   
"Hello Ron," he answered without turning his head. "What's he doing with you?"  
"My new partner. I requested a change. I won't suffer from your shortcomings in potions. So sorry..."  
The door flew open once again and Professor Snape came crashing through. "I see one of our new teams already found each other. Weasley, why you're still standing there?"   
"Uh-"   
"Figures... Your new partner will be Ms. Parkinson." He smiled very thinly. "And five points from Gryffindor for your standing around in my class. Now, be seated." "But I can't... I mean Parkinson? I'm supposed –"  
"You're supposed to sit down and be silent. It's my decision. You either do as you're told, or leave my class. I'd be _crushed_ if you'd left..." he sneered.   
Malfoy snickered beside him.   
"But-" He stopped as Hermione kicked him in the shins from her desk. He trudged off to sit down with Pansy Parkinson. She didn't look any happier than Ron.   
The warding potion they had to brew was, of course, hideously complex. But he soon found out that Malfoy was incredibly skilled.   
They worked in silence for the most part. This whole situation was just too new, and unprecedented.   
"Potter," Malfoy suddenly whispered.   
"What?" he answered as he dropped the silver into the potion.   
"Mind some fun?" he said in a conspiratorial voice.   
"What do you have in mind, huh?"  
"Just follow my lead."   
"Whatever you have planned, it'll only bring more trouble, you know that," Harry whispered. "Well, in case you didn't notice, I have lost some...status, so it doesn't change a thing. And you, on the other side... Let's just say you don't seem to be overly friendly with your house mates, either in recent times."  
He thought for it about a second or two. Strangely, Malfoy had a point. He could possibly worsen his image by publicly joining the death Eaters, but short of that...   
Malfoy raised his head a little and spoke again, this time so loud it could be heard throughout the dungeon. "Harry, you still remember the library session we had for this afternoon?"   
Harry was shocked for a second to hear Malfoy speak his first name. It was simply not done! But from the utterly perplex faces of the other students, and the twinkling in Malfoy's eyes, the others were just as shocked to hear them talk civilly to each other. Suddenly, he found it incredibly funny.   
"Oh yes, Draco," he could hear some heavy breaths from the Gryffindor side, "I do. What about it?"  
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I have to do an essay for Ancient Runes. What about we move it to tomorrow?"  
"Oh, sure. It's ok with me." Malfoy seemed to suppress a huge giggle. A disconcerting thought, Malfoy giggling. The chatter among the other students gained some momentum after their little act, only to be stomped by Snape, docking points again from Gryffindor.  
  
After it, they seemed to be thawing up a bit more. He wasn't calling it overly friendly, but he guessed they exchanged more words in a normal conversation than ever before. The strange thing was that Malfoy wasn't as insufferable as all the years prior to this.  
  
And the face of Snape as Harry turned their potion in together with Malfoy was priceless. Of course, their potion was impeccable. Something he never managed before, and he had to admit that he might actually could become good at this.  
  
###  
  
He was still puzzled, stunned, and intrigued about the Potions session when he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. His thoughts focused on the here and now just in time to hear Professor Ragdanovich shoot a stunning spell at him. He missed Harry by less than an inch when he jumped to the side.   
Rubbing his rips from the impact, he got up to see a chuckling Professor.   
"Good. Your reflexes are quick!"   
"Thanks, Professor, but this won't be popular as a wake-up exercise..."  
"But it should be!" He laughed. "Anyway, take a seat, we'll be beginning soon."  
He tested three more students before the class started. Hermione was the only one to escape his spell.   
"I see some of you still are unprepared... You have, you absolutely have to realise how utterly important it is to be prepared!" He scanned the class, and some students seemed to have reddened a bit. "But now, let's talk about one important part of Defense. Protection spells," his voice got this slight teaching-style. "I've seen you work your magic on Monday." Most of the class just moaned. "Yes, I know, for some of you it didn't work out as you thought it would," he chuckled at Zabini, "but it was helpful to assess you. Next Monday, I plan on testing your rough strength, and set up special courses for those of you who are lacking, either in practise or determination."   
The looks on the faces showed that not everyone was looking forward to it. Harry beamed, though. It would be fun. Like last time. He winked at Zabini.   
"Now, all of you know the Protego spell. It is a useful one, simple, yet efficient. But in some cases, there are other, more specialized shielding spells. For instance..."  
  
###  
  
After lunch, and a not quite boring class of Charms, he went into the library to read up on some of the spells Ragdanovich told them about. He already knew most of them, but some were too obscure for him to know. His library time was only interrupted by detention with Snape, again.

In the end, he stayed far longer than he planned to. He was basically the last one in the library as he was ushered out.   
"Potter!" He whipped around as he heard a voice call his name from the shadows of a small corridor as he was on his way to the Gryffindor tower.   
"Yes?" he asked into the darkness, his wand at the ready. He sighed heavily as Zabini stepped out of the shadows.   
"For a word, Potter," Zabini's voice held a hint of steel. Quite unusual for him.   
"Do you ever learn?" Potter sighed again. "Haven't I told you, quite drastically so, that I didn't want to have to do anything with you? Wasn't Monday enough for you?"   
"You humiliated me! And made fun of me. And now you're hanging around with Malfoy, of all people. I tell you, this has to stop."  
"I warned you last time. Don't cross me again. I think this will be a final warning..."  
" Tenebra!" Harry's voice ran out. The corridor around them was instantly drowned in darkness so black, it was almost tangible. It flowed around Harry, from him, making him look like he just stepped out of the nothingness around them and was part of it. His eyes almost glowed in the darkness.   
Zabini looked around confused, and shocked, fear in his eyes. But he hadn't had time to come to terms with this new situation.   
Harry stepped closer. "Asphyxio!" Zabini wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. His eyes widened in shock, and his hands grabbed his throat.   
"Now, Zabini," he smiled very, very wickedly, "I think I have your full attention. No worries, my friend, you'll be able to breath again. If I _wish_ it so." Zabini slumped to the ground, gasping like a fish without water. "This is really my last word. Don't cross me again. Don't irritate me. And don't try to bully me again. You will regret it. Do you _understand_? I have other things to do than teach you how to behave."   
Zabini just nodded vigorously. Harry flicked his wand in a complicated way. "Now, if you think about telling anyone about this, hear this. I modified your memory a bit. Quite useful, actually. Whenever you want to tell someone about our...meeting, you will suffer pain. The longer you think about it, the longer the pain. Funny, isn't it?"   
Zabini nodded again, even more vigorously. "Well then, I think I'll leave for bed now. A pity to waste a good night's sleep..." He laughed.  
He flicked his wand again, and the darkness vanished, replaced by the corridor. As he walked away, he could hear Zabini breathing fast and heavy, and then some feet shuffling to get away from him as fast as possible.  
  
He wasn't that far gone, when he heard a voice, again, calling his name.   
"Zabini, I told you-"he turned around and stopped dead in his tracks.   
"Malfoy?" His eyes were levelling on Malfoy. "Is there a convention of Slytherins here I missed?"  
"Don't shoot me!" he said. "I just witnessed some of your...incident with Zabini. He kept track of you, and when he left tonight from the Slytherin dungeon, I followed him. Got to know what he's up to after all..."  
"You did now..." He played with his wand. "Why shouldn't I you to be silent about this?" "Because you're still a Gryffindor," Malfoy smirked. "I doubt you'd do it."  
"You'd be surprised what I do these days."  
"Oh, I certainly would. But rest assured, I won't be telling anyone."   
"Why wouldn't you run to Snape?" he simply asked.  
"For one, I don't mind what you did to Zabini. He deserves it. And secondly, you're more useful for me alive than rotting away in Azkaban."  
"Useful? Azkaban?"  
"Don't play innocent on me. You know full well that the spells you performed were...dark. I know it, I'm a Malfoy. Not Unforgiveables, but certainly nothing you tell the Ministry about, either. And in case you haven't noticed, I have my own plans. Just as you. We might be able to...help us."  
"What do you want from me?"  
"Oh, nothing. But if I ask you for a favour, recall this and consider it."   
"Sounds reasonable I guess. We have an agreement of sorts then." Harry just calculated Malfoy. He was different, true. But different enough to trust him? He wasn't sure, but when he looked into these grey oceans he called eyes...  
  
When they separated, he had a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Something he couldn't quite describe...


	9. Unexpectedly expected

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Another update. Sorry for the long wait, but multitaslking between learning and stuff isn't easy :) Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for all the reviews. Really like them :)  
Special thank to Slytherin Damian

Silver Serpent: You might not read this, but anyway. Here's a very easy to remember rule-of-thumb: If you don't like it, don't read it. Secondly, if you want more male-female slash in here, write something of your own. And I highly doubt that most of the readers of HPDM, let alone the authors, are gay. So, a warm welcome to this century, my friend.  
Anyway, on with the story...

**Chapter 9**

Harry was mildly surprised that he didn't have to put up with anymore Zabini incidents after their last meeting. _Maybe he's learning after all?_ Or he was just plotting how he could get his stupid revenge without getting another train run over him. All in all, it was a rather normal week - for a wizard-in-training that is.  
For the first time, he was actually working on the lessons and eagerly doing his homework to the utter astonishment of his teachers. He even got some compliments for his outstanding work from Professor Flitwick.  
Luckily, he was through with Professor Snape's detentions. Surely Harry had cleaned every singly cupboard, table, and things he didn't know existed in the dungeon. At least it was past him now…  
But after he went through the week, he still had the weekend ahead. At first he tried to intermingle with his friends, or already former friends? It seemed there was an invisible barrier between them, something that wasn't there before. They didn't show it, but they made him feel like he was dangerous, something to be afraid of. He soon was fed up with this and decided to go his own separate way.  
So he spent the weekend in the library, learning – with some evening visits to the restricted section thanks to the invisibility cloak, taking long runs around the castle, or doing some exercises in the Room of Requirements. When he entered it, it did look like the next best thing to a gym, with all the machines. He even found time to do further train his Wushu there. He was only a beginner, but found he was a quick learner. And doing something with his body just felt…good. No thinking about problems or social insecurities, just himself and his body being one.

Then came Monday. Thanks to Professor Ragdanovich, he was always looking forward to it. One of the few highlights in the week. If he managed to survive Potions, of course.  
Working with Malfoy proved to be a good thing for his potions skill. Malfoy and he worked better together than either of them would have admitted. They were having normal, even friendly conversations with each other. But that still left Snape…  
Despite his efforts, Snape didn't change. Even though he couldn't dock him points for the work, as it was nearly perfect, he still took every other chance to take points from him for the slightest misbehaviour. He didn't like it that much, but he had got used to this in the last few years. In fact, it felt rather refreshing to have someone who didn't change in the way they treated Harry.

###

"Are you happy with the little git, huh?" he heard Ron snap from behind as he was walking down a corridor away from Potions.  
Harry stopped and slowly turned around. "What _is_ your problem?" Harry looked wearily at Ron. "I work with Malfoy, not you. So it is not your problem, now is it?"  
"It is my problem. If it wasn't for you running to the enemy, I wouldn't have to work with Parkinson!"  
"Oh, I'm _so sorry_ that I actually want to learn something in Potions." His eyes hardened. "And Slytherin isn't the enemy. They're not exactly friendly, but are still all in Hogwarts. Or did you miss the Sorting Hat at the beginning of last year? The whole 'We should stand united' bit?"  
"That doesn't change a thing!"  
"Oh gosh, Ron, do you _ever_ listen to what you say?"  
"You-You-"  
"Ron, be silent," Hermione said as she came around the corner from the dungeon. "If Harry wants to work with Malfoy it is his problem. You should concentrate on your own problems."  
"But 'Mione, I can't-"  
"Ron, we've been through this. Harry needs time, we'll be giving it to him. Now come, before it gets even uglier." She grabbed Ron by the arm and dragged him with her.  
Harry just watched them leave. He shook his head and walked on. _Why Ron was such a fool…_

###

Breakfast the next morning started just as uneventful and normal as ever. Until the owls with the Daily Prophet arrived, that is. Immediately conversations started to blossom, hushed at first, but more vivid within minutes. Some gasped at a seemingly terrifying headline.  
Irritated, Harry walked over to a second year holding a copy of the Daily Prophet. With a mumbled "Excuse me" he ripped it out of the boys hands, who was too terrified to say anything.

Then he read the first page, and his blood started to chill.

_Lucius Malfoy Escapes Azkaban _

_Sunday evening, the Daily Prophet received reports that Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban. _

_The Ministry of Magic confirmed these reports but would not comment on the means of his escape and has put the entire affair under nondisclosure until it was resolved. _

_Interim Minister Arthur Weasley said only that "the escape was unexpected, to say the least, as is the exact way in which Malfoy escaped." The Ministry has promised a thorough inquiry and feels confident they will catch Malfoy shortly._

_Malfoy, whose son currently studies at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, was convicted after the attack on the Department of Mysteries last year (Read more about it on page 3). His wife, Narcisssa was not giving any comments on this affair_

_This is the second escape from…_

Harry tossed the paper back to the boy. He was stunned. Lucius escaped. He soon would be back in the ranks of the Death Eaters, wouldn't he? He was dangerous, and didn't exactly make things easier. But then everyone had counted on this 'unexpected' escape for some time.  
He looked around and found Draco. His face lost all colour and looked like a walking dead. Grasping what seemed to be a letter, Malfoy stumbled out of the Great Hall, given a wide berth by the other students, who just whispered as he passed them.

###

Draco clutched the letter to his chest as he got out of the Great Hall. He tried to compose himself, but to no avail. He was too shocked.  
Just as he had settled in his current situation, as unpleasant as it may seem, this shouldn't have happened. _Damn him! Why couldn't he rot away in Azkaban?_  
The letter in his hand caused him to shiver. It was undoubtedly the handwriting of his father…  
He found a forlorn space near the garden and sat down. He shivered as he slowly opened the letter.

_Dear Son,_

_As you read this, word must have already reached you that I have escaped from Azkaban. I have planned on this for some time, but only now I could take my chance. Luckily, the war has drawn away enough Dementors to make this happen at all.  
__I write to you because there is one thing the Daily Prophet won't know.  
__I will not join with the Dark Lord again. It would be my certain death. Having disappointed him severely, I also lost all influence within the Ministry and the Wizarding World. If he does not punish me with death, I do not know what else he may do.  
__So I will hide myself until a time comes when it is safe to come out again, and the outcome of this war is determined.  
__There is one thing you must do, my Son. They might take their revenge on you, to set an example. It hurts me to say this, but go to Dumbledore. He will be able to protect you where I cannot._

_Kind Regards,  
__Lucius Malfoy_

Draco laughed. He laughed hard.  
After all these years, he finally saw it. His father was a coward. Deeply hidden, he was a coward. In the face of death, he ran away. If he was such a staunch supporter of the Dark Lord, he should have faced the punishment. But maybe he wasn't so sure the Dark Lord would succeed?  
He took a deep breath and put the letter away in his pocket.

###

Harry was on his way to lunch, when he heard a commotion from ahead. Interested, he walked closer. He didn't like what he saw, at all.  
A large group of students formed a quasi-ring, and in it was a very angry Ronald Weasley, towering over Draco Malfoy lying on the floor. Some sort of fight has seemed to take place as he could see some ripped cloaks and blood trickle down Malfoy's nose and lips.  
"Stop it," Harry thundered. "NOW!"  
The circle suddenly opened and Harry stood alone facing Ron.  
"Get lost," Ron snarled. He was clearly deep in rage. "None of your business, Harry!"  
"None of my business?" Harry eyed Ron coolly. "As soon as Snape hears about it, he will dock points from Gryffindor. Many points. And do you think McGonagall will just overlook it?" Harry chuckled as Ron looked frantically around. "Of course they're not here now. But they will hear about it. It isn't exactly a secret spot."  
"As I said, none of your business. Now let me finish him off!" Ron started to move ahead, but Harry stepped between him and Draco.  
"Out of my way, Harry!"  
"No, I won't."  
"You don't understand!"  
"Oh, I don't? What did he do? Call you a Weasel, or Hermione a mudblood? Did he insult your family? You should be used to it by now! It's not like he just started it this year."  
"Didn't you read the Daily Prophet?" Ron asked incredulously.  
"Yes, I did. So?"  
"His father escaped! No one is safe from him!"  
"Oh my," Harry sighed. "Would you grow up? What do you think he would do? Sneak in the tower to sacrifice a Gryffindor in celebration of his father's escape? He isn't his bloody father!"  
"I don't care! Get out of my way," he snarled.  
"You have to get rid of me first, Ron," Harry's voice was frighteningly cold. "Do you have what it takes? Do you?" Harry laughed harshly. "I have taken on greater men than you. I'm not afraid."  
Suddenly, Ron was grasped from behind and Seamus Finnigan tried to drag him away.  
"Professor Sprout is coming, we have to go. You can finish it later!" the Irish boy said loudly.  
Reluctantly, he turned around and ran away. "This is not over!" Ron shouted at Draco.  
"Oh no, it isn't," Harry whispered.  
The cluster of students swiftly dissolved as they got away before the professor could ask pointed questions.  
Harry stepped closer to Draco and extended his hand to the young man lying on the floor.  
Draco seemed to hesitate for a split second, but then firmly grasped Harry's hand.  
"I could have taken him on," Malfoy drawled as he was standing on his feet again and wiped away the blood. "Thanks," he threw in after a long pause. From the way he squirmed when he said it, he really didn't like to thank people very often.  
"You're welcome," Harry smiled. "Now we should have your accident taken care of. Must've been a terribly strong door you ran into, wasn't it?" Harry looked him sternly in the eyes.  
Taking the hint, Malfoy just nodded. "Yes, very strong."  
Harry nodded and smiled.  
Leading the way, he walked Draco to the infirmary and walked past Professor Sprout who looked curious as she saw Draco's injuries, but let them go when Harry told her he was bringing him to Madame Pomfrey.

###

It was not easy for him. He wanted to just walk away as he came to a halt in front of Dumbledore's staircase. He felt so… powerless, to run for the mighty Professor. But things might really get ugly now after his father's escape, and if his father of all people made him go to Dumbledore…  
"Professor?" he asked into the staircase. _Why can't he just have a normal door?_ He knocked, prodded, and even kicked it. After a frustrating quarter hour he was truly about to leave when Professor McGonagall came by.  
"Mr. Malfoy," she sternly looked at him. "What are you doing here?"  
"I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore. It is a matter of some urgency."  
"Urgency?"  
"It has to do with…with my father."  
McGonagall looked at him with an empty face for a second or two, then turned to the staircase. "Chocolate Frog!" The gargoyle protecting it jumped aside and the staircase started to move and Draco quickly stepped on it.  
Stepping off the staircase he found himself in the Headmaster's quarters. How anyone could live in this mess and chaos of artefacts, weird machines and all those portraits was beyond him.  
"Professor?" he called out again.  
He heard a rasping sound from ahead. "Ah, young Draco Malfoy," he finally heard Dumbledore. He was sounding very weak. How he should help him? "Come closer."  
He did, and soon stood before Dumbledore's desk.  
"What can I do for you, my boy?"  
He felt his temper rise as he called him a boy. But he got himself back under control. "I…I have it you heard about my father's…activities?"  
"Oh yes," he answered. "I have. Quite resourceful, your father. Always was…"  
"Well," he almost whispered, "there is something you don't know…" He silently handed Dumbledore the letter.  
Dumbledore scanned the letter and he raised an eyebrow. Pulling out is wand, he performed a complex dance with it and a slightly silvery puff of smoke materialized above the letter.  
"Interesting indeed." He looked deep into Draco eyes. "This changes many things. I never expected Lucius to come to 'our' side in this war and betray his master. But this comes as close as it could to happening. This could be very dangerous for you once it is known by Voldemort and his followers. But you know that already, don't you?"  
"Well, yes. I can put two and two together."  
"As long as you're within the castle, you're safe, you can trust me on this. Have you told anyone about this letter, besides me?"  
"Eh, no. And I wasn't planning on it either, actually."  
"Good," he semed to think for a moment before he went on. "Make sure to trust the one anyone you tell. It is a delicate thing." Seemingly out of the blue he went on, "your relations with Mr. Potter have improved lately, have they not?"  
Perplexed at the sudden change of topic, he didn't know what to say. "Err, yes," he brought out after a short time. "We're not friends. But he doesn't seem to be the same person he was last year."  
"Yes, he has changed a lot." He looked at a clock and sighed. "Now, I have some matters to attend now that I know this. If you'll excuse me?"  
"Eh, yes, Professor," he answered and then left the tower by the staircase.  
He looked puzzled and a bit confused as he walked down the corridor and didn't really watch out as he walked around a corner.  
"Ouch," someone shouted as Draco ran into him.  
"Sorry, I-Potter?" he asked incredulous.  
"Yeah, I am allowed to walk these corridors, aren't I now?"  
"Yes, of course, I was just…"  
"Just what? Running over people?"  
"I got some things on my mind, you know? I was a bit...elsewhere."  
"I can see that," Potter chuckled. Something worked deep inside the black-haired boy, as suddenly a friendly smile spread on his face. "Want to talk about it?"  
"No, I-" He fell silent, and thought about what Dumbledore had told him. He was the wonder boy; he had faced the Dark Lord before… Maybe it wouldn't hurt, would it? "Actually, yes, I do. But not here…"  
Leading Harry to an unobserved part of the castle, they walked off.


	10. The Darkness Within

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling**

A/N: Sorry for the long delay... An unfortunate combination of exams, real life, and writer's block bugged me for quite a while :)  
I hope it's readable and enjoyable, and I know the formatting most likely sucks, but I had the urge to get it finished and online :) Thanks for the reviews in the mean time g> Keep 'em coming :)

**Chapter 10**

Draco opened his eyes and smiled. Most people wouldn't go so far and call it a friendly one, but he wasn't all that used at smiling to begin with. As he clambered out of his bed his mental routine slammed into place and his smile was replaced by the usual mask of sneering he wore, and went to the bathroom. It was only a precaution should his former friends see him like that. No Malfoy was supposed to smile. But as Draco had found out in the last days, it was refreshing. His position was precarious enough; he didn't want to further ruin it by showing signs of humanity.  
He went under the shower and as the water ran down his body and warmed him up, the past days flew by his inner eye.  
These last days had been something new for him, andwere quite special. After he hadran into Potter that other night, he had taken Dumbledore's not so subtle suggestion and talked to him. A real talk, like between normal human beings, and not just between two mortal enemies. Potter had listened closely, his white face shining in the darkness of the astronomy tower like a ghost.  
When he told about his father, Potter's face darkened, and for a second he was sure he saw a slight tick of the right corner of his mouth. He hadn't been so sure then whether Potter had a grudge against his father and was blinded by his hatred of all things related to Death Eaters. But as fast as he saw the anger rise in Harry, it just dropped as fast.  
What first had only been a confession of sorts developed into a deep exchange between them. Draco told him about his family. The emotional deadness of his home. His mother, only interested in keeping up the façade of the great and noble house of Malfoy, his father, who cared not about anything his son truly wanted, but only that he became a carbon copy of himself to continue the family line.  
But as Harry started talking, he found out they shared more than he ever thought possible. Both were now without friends. Harry because he chose to. He because he had had no other option. And as he now knew, they both had less than desirable pasts. He still shuddered at the thought of growing up in a muggle family like that… Surely, Draco never got any warmth and love in his youth, but at least his parents had been above physical violence and hadn't forced him to live away from his own kind. Dumbledore was a tottering fool to believe it would all be good. A miracle Harry had followed him for so long…  
But the death of Sirius Black seemed to have been the last punch into his armour and had finally cracked, only to reveal this different Harry. A Harry he soon found out to be really likeable, in a dark, gloomy way. While the old Harryhad beenthe dream of all mother-in-laws, the one he was faced with now was something far more dangerous. And far more interesting…  
The frail bond that had developed between the two of them grew stronger by the day. And the rumours and whispers in the halls because of it were really worth it. Seing people shocked to the bones because Harry and Draco were talking to each other seemed to have shattered quite a few comfortable world views.  
The tell-tale Malfoy sneer was plastered on his face as he left the shower and dressed.  
As he crossed the floors of the Slytherin common room, no greetings or words were uttered. Zabini had stopped his taunting altogether for no apparent reason, and the others had followed suit. Not that he was tocomplain...

* * *

Breakfast was an almostsurreal affair, especially in these last days. Draco sat almost completely alone at the far end of the Slytherin table and sipped his tea in solitude. It was as if an intangible field of 'Don't touch me' surrounded him. And across the great hall, almost like through a mirror, he could see Harry sit alone at his table and eat breakfast equally alone.  
Soon it was time for the first lesson, and he left his place at the table.  
"Good morning, Draco," the pleasant voice of Harry greeted him as he approached the door. At first it had felt strange to use their first names, but now it felt natural. It only increased the difference of their new found relationship.  
"Good morning, Harry," he answered. "Looking forward to Defence?"  
"Yes, of course. It has always been my favourite subject. Minus the Umbridge affair, of course."  
"Of course," Draco chuckled.  
As they walked into the class room, a shout greeted them and he felt Harry slam his body sideways.  
A booming laugh filled the great room that was today's staging area for Defence against the Dark Arts. "You're getting really good, Potter," the deep Russian accent of Professor Ragdanovichresonated through the airas both he and Harry got up again.  
"I strive to please, Professor," he answered with a smile on his face. 

After some more test assaults by the Professor, the class was assembled, more or less intact. Ragdanovich had only used low powered stunning spells. So apart from a few indignant faces, no real harm was done. Harry had to chuckle as he looked at Zabini, who had managed to get hit the third time in a row by the Professor. AndZabini thought he was a force worth reckoning…

The training room sported some unusual changes. It was empty, except one pedestal in its midst. Many students had questions on their minds.  
"Dear students," the Professor finally said, standing on the pedestal, "come closer."  
When all where in a circle around it, he slightly bowed and started speaking in an almost conspiratorial tone. "Today we will perform an ancient ritual, the Aura of Revelation." He looked at the class and almost smiled. "I see not too many really heard about it, good." Someone cleared a throat. "I am sorry, Ms. Granger," he chuckled, "I am certain you have read about it."  
The Slytherins snickered, and even Harry couldn't stop himself, which earned him a few scornful looks by Gryffindors.  
"The Aura of Revelation shows our true strengths and talents, more or less. That's also why it has been lost in times. It often lead to, eh, inglorious results by descendants of the oh so mighty old houses." Some, especially Slytherin, cast moody glances up to the Professor. "But if I am to teach you how to last in the troublesome times ahead, I must know of those who need special training, so I can use my time more efficiently. Any questions so far?"  
A hand rose. "Yes, Ms. Parvati?"  
"Isn't it dangerous? My mother told me about an ancient ritual almost like it…"  
Ragdanovich laughed. "Ah, the usual fear mongering. But I can assure you that it is absolutely harmless. Except of course to some people's egos." A few subdued chuckled arose.  
"But to assure you, and to show you how it is done, I will perform it on myself."  
He took his wand and cast a very complex wand motion while muttering something. Suddenly, above them in the room, a tiny fleck of light glowed to life. Before anyone could really say something, it erupted like a supernova. And just as sudden as it erupted, it stopped again, now a globe the size of two outstretched arms, glowing like a second sun. It pulsated in a slow rhythm as if it was alive.  
Mesmerized by the sight, Harry overheard the Professor speak again.  
"-see is a composite of several sources of information. Mind you, it is nothing exact; it's more like a very good estimation." He pointed at the globe. "The size is roughly equivalent to what one might call raw power. The bigger it is the more power you can theoretically tap into." Ragdanovich looked down on several students. "No, don't be afraid. As anyone will tell you, raw power isn't everything. Even the tiniest creature can slay a dragon; he just has to know how to do it…" He again pointed upwards. "That's where the strength of the light comes into play. It represents knowledge, experience. The more you are in control of your own power, the steadier the light is, the less the aura is in motion."  
"Professor," the unmistakeable voice of Hermione cut through the class, "What are the colours there? And the black streaks?"  
"Ah, yes, Ms. Granger," he answered her, never lookingaway from his aura. "Keen perception. They represent different fields of magic, talents, knacks. And if you look closely, I got some real talentin the Dark Arts department," he pointed to some black swirls flowing around the globe. "I would not expect you to already have such distinct auras. You're still young and talents often need time to ripe. Now, how is the first one up?"  
Needless to say, no one rushed to volunteer. But after the Professor had picked the first students, and they saw it really wasn't dangerous, more were willing to volunteer.  
And it was not without the occasional fun. Goyle, and his soul mate Crabbe, were not to be pitied. As the Professor had performed the ritual, all houses except Slytherin, tried to stop themselves from laughing, mostly unsuccessful. The shrivelling, tiny and unshaped…things were an insult to all globes and were so dull Harry would be surprised if one could light the way in a moonlit night with them.  
Most Slytherins that been tested showed more black in their auras as the other houses, though Zabini was even blacker than most,unfortunately for him, and his 'fame', his aura certainly wasn't the biggest and showed not so much in the control department. As he walked down, Harry saw his jaws clench with frustration.  
But the Gryffindors weren't all shining examples of education either. Neville's aura was quite relatively strong, but what it had in power, it seriously lacked in control. If the spikes andsudden protuberances were any indications to go by, the globe wason the brink of explosion. But one thing caught the Professor's attention.  
"Longbottom," he pointed up and smiled," you show a huge talent for plants. Look, there? It's almost completely green! But you really need to learn to get your magic under control, you could do a lot better than now…"  
Neville made a miserable look as he walked down, as if he couldn't cope with the encouragement and disappointment at the same time.  
Hermione, to no one's surprise,was exceptional as well. When the Professor finished the ritual, a huge globe popped into the room, clearly larger than the Professors, and almost as bright and calm as his one. The colours swirling around it were dominated by the red of charms.  
"Ms. Granger!" The Professor laughed. "This really gives another meaning to the saying of the 'brightest witch of your age'. By Merlin… What you can do with that…"  
"Why, thank you Professor," she answered and walked down as if she suddenly had grown ten feet.  
She was followed by Ron, another Gryffindor disappointment. His aura was stronger than Crabbe and Goyle, but that was an easy feat. It still was a dull, shrivelled little thing, like a balloon with not enough air in it. Slytherin cheered and laughed.  
"You bastards,-" Ron was about to launch into yet another fit of rage as Ragdanovich got him off the pedestal. "There's more than magical talent, that you all know. And it grows with age and experience, so don't make too much of it," he tried to calm down Ron.  
Draco was the next to go up. Striding up in pure Malfoy-ish style, it seemed as if he owned the place. He looked very calm as the Professor did his spell. The aura was…magnificent. His was rivalling the Professors in size and also in control. The colours swirled around it, and Harry wasn't sure, but he felt as he could see a tint of silver in it. He felt himself drawn to it… As if he was about to drown… If only Draco-  
His mind stopped. _What are you thinking? Stop it!  
_"My my, Mr. Malfoy," the Professor played with his beard. "Quite a talent for potions you have? No doubt the makings of dear Snape. I am impressed by your control. It is seldom that people so young are already so attuned…" He dismissed Draco and looked around. "Mr. Potter, I think you're the last one. Hurry!"  
Harry reluctantly walked up the pedestal. The other students were watching his every steps. When he was atop the pedestal, he straightened, taking example by Draco.  
The Professor did his magic and he looked up. He could see a tiny fleck appear and then… Then was just silence.  
One could hear a needle fall to the ground. Where there should be a globe of varying lightness, something else floated. It was an orb of shining blackness, an avatar of nothingness dwarfing even Hermione's. No swirling colours, not one movement on its surface. Just uncompromising blackness…  
Harry could hear whispers and murmuring filled with fear. When he looked into the faces of his fellow students, only blank faces looked back. It was as if suddenly the Dark Mark had spread on his forehead. He could see a huge "I told you so!" appear on Ron's face, and Hermione was furiously whispering in his ear. Slytherins were just as flabbergasted as most others. He chuckled as he saw Zabini's reaction. He seemed to remember their clash this one night.  
But Draco…just looked at him. Was that a smile he was hiding? _It couldn't be…  
_But then the globe vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.  
"Class dismissed!" Ragdanovich bellowed. "Everyone out!"  
Harry started to move but was stopped by Ragdanovich. "Not you. We need to talk. In my office, now!"  
"By Merlin, Harry!" Ragdanovich said in a hushed voice. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"  
"What, Professor?" Harry tried to play the clueless student.  
"Your power… You have to do something! You are so transfixed on Dark Arts… I haven't seen something like yours in ages. You must be very careful what you do. Once the Ministry hears about this, and they will without a doubt, they will follow your every move. If you think they were looking after you before, think again. This is bad, really bad…"  
"But I didn't do-"  
Ragdanovich suddenly griped him. "It's not what you did, but what you could do in the future! Think! That you survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a miracle in itself. And now it seems you're just as powerful as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I will do what I can to help you, but I would be very careful who to trust from now on, even more so than in the past…"

* * *

Flames blazed from massive flambeaus on the stone walls, dipping the whole room in an ominously red and yellow light. A skull motif made of flowing lava dominated the large cave like room and on the far side a throne of obsidian was looming over the whole scene.  
A large group of hooded people lined the lava skull, their dark robes billowing around them by the heat.  
It looked terribly cliché, but no one was crazy enough to point it out to the master of this room.  
One of the hooded people stepped forward and approached the throne.  
"Oh Dark Lord," he bowed deeply, his face almost touching the dirty floor. "I bring the information you desired."  
"Then talk! What is with Malfoy?" a raspy voice snapped out from the shadows of the throne.  
"My Lord," the hooded man said with a shaky voice. "He has not turned up in any of our meeting points, nor have any of our contacts seen him. It is as if he vanished, my Lord."  
"Vanished?" Voldemort hissed. "No one vanished without my permission!"  
"There are only three possible explanations I can offer. Firstly, he was captured shortly after his escape from Azkaban."  
"No, I would have heard of it by now. The Ministry wouldn't keep this to themselves. Continue."  
"Secondly, he might have died on the run, my Lord."  
"No, I know Malfoy. He is too resourceful to suffer from his own stupidity, despite the Ministry raid. Impossible. Your last explanation?"  
A visible shiver ran down the hooded man, despite the heavy robes. "My Lord," his voice was now close to collapsing, "he might have…left your services."  
The shadow on the throne moved slightly. "Are you suggesting I have been…betrayed?"  
"It is the most likely explanation I have to offer, my Lord…"  
The shadow moved even further, until a pair of glowing eyes appeared. "Is it so? Well, no one leaves me without paying a price…" He paused for dreadful seconds. "He can still be of use to me. He must be brought back here, understood?"  
The assembled Death Eaters nodded. "But he will have to pay a price for betrayal. I can't have that… Nalfayn, come forward."  
One of the hooded people stepped from the lava skull to the throne. "Yes, Master?" a deep voice answered.  
"You will find, and kill, Malfoy's son to serve as an example. Make it gory, will you?"  
"Yes, Master," he bowed.  
"Very well then, off you go."  
Nalfayn turned and strode out of the room.  
As he did so, he hears an unearthly shrill laughter coming out of the meeting room. 


	11. To Hogsmeade

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: It's really amazing what you can do when you have some free time at hand, so here's the next installment:D  
Thanks to rosemary faerie for suffering as a beta :) Though I'm terribly sorry I failed to format as suggested. The interface clearly hates me and my ideas :)  
Anyway, I hope you like it, and review g>

**Chapter 11**

"We can't just sit back and watch this happen, Albus," McGonagall said. She looked at Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting across from her at the large wooden table in a dungeon room deep within the bowels of Hogwarts. Before Dumbledore could answer, Professor Ragdanovich thumped his fist on the table in frustration.  
His deep voice rumbled through the room. "It is not as bad as you make it to be, Minerva."  
"Is it now, Yuri?" She said with a healthy dose of sarcasm in her voice. "He is turning into a second Voldemort just before our very eyes, and we are supposed to just sit by the side lines and see nothing?"  
Ragdanovich was slowly turning slightly red and a tiny vein in his temple was pulsing prominently. "The results of the Aura are not so clear-cut as you make it out to be. There is no bloody manual for it! It just shows a mere interest in Dark Arts. Many people do. Aurors do. Even Snape here does. Is that enough to condemn him? It is just his enormous concentration on it."  
"He's more than just interested. But you're too stuck in your little fantasy world to realize what happens out there in the real world, now do you? If we had been more observant back in the days, we might have saw Voldemort for who he really was. You may be ignoring this. I won't."  
"He is not Voldemort!" Ragdanovich raised his voice. "He's just a boy – a young man – who has seen more than anybody should see in a lifetime. People around him die in droves, he gets lied to…" He was close to actually shouting. "He has a right to be freaky, a loner, have some quirks. He's only human, not your bloody saviour, for Merlin's sake!"  
"How dare-"  
"Silence," the almost whispered voice of Albus Dumbledore cut them short. "I have heard enough I think. Now, sit and calm down." His face showed no emotions, not even his usual warm smile or the humour in his eyes. "I like your sentiment, Yuri, but the circumstances demand tribute of all of us, Even Harry. So if something out of the normal happens to him, we have to take notice and take measures of our own. The prophecy-"  
"Yes, what about it," Ragdanovich cut Dumbledore short, much to the astonishment of the other guests. "Who is to say that this is not what's supposed to happen? If it is part of this prophecy? Is it our right to intervene?"  
"I have thought of that myself." Dumbledore answered with a strange tone in his voice, like a general about to send his men into the battle, not like the wise old grandfather he portrayed so well. "But we cannot allow him to do whatever he wants to. He has to fulfil a function."  
"But if you push him to hard, he will only work harder against it. Give him some leeway! Especially after all that he has been through the last months!" Ragdanovich almost pleaded.  
"I have to concur with his assessment, Headmaster," Snape raised his voice after he had followed the conversation. "His achievements so far in the classes show only stunning progress compared to last year. He even surpassed Granger in several classes. We should observe him more closely, yes. But we can't rule out that actually something useful might come out of it."  
"So we ignore his black…Aura and just go on?" McGonagall asked.  
"Well, Minerva," Dumbledore answered her in a conspiratorial voice, "there is one other explanation to his Aura. As Yuri said, the Aura is nothing definite. It is open to interpretation. But I must carefully research the matter. If it is true, the future suddenly became even more interesting."  
"Can you tell us more?" She was curious.  
Dumbledore looked very sphinxian as he answered her. "It was not supposed to happen within the next two or three generations… Just know that wherever there is light, there is also darkness – and something else."  
"But-"  
"Now, I can't tell you more until I know myself." He turned to the table. "We keep an even closer eye on Harry from now on. Be on the watch, my friends and report anything unusual you come across. Is there something else?"  
McGonagall raised her voice once again. "Yes, one thing. I have been told by my House Prefects that there is growing tension within the House because of Harry. Some start to get afraid of him and his changed personality. I fear it might get out of hand."  
"Not having your house under a firm grasp, have you?" Snape snickered.  
"From what I hear about your own Malfoy problem, you're not the one to throw stones right now, Severus," she shot back.  
"There is no prob-" Snape was about to retort, when he was cut short by Dumbledore.  
"Well, Minerva," Dumbledore said as he stood up from his chair, "I will see what can be done. Now, I think we're finished."

* * *

"You really should get a life," a familiar voice whispered from behind. Whipping around, Harry looked into the face of a snickering Draco Malfoy, a startling sight to begin with if you weren't used to it.  
"Merlin," he sighed, "you have a death wish, do you?" Harry settled himself again in his chair in the back of the library. "I am kind of busy here, you know? What do you do here, anyway?"  
"I knew you would say that," he sneered. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. And it wasn't too hard finding you in your usual hiding spot in the library." Draco got a bit closer and sat down beside him. "Wouldn't it be more effective to do something relaxing from time to time?"  
"No, it wouldn't," his eyes darkened. "I have a purpose. To kill Voldemort. I am not achieving it by slacking." He was about to turn back to his books, when Draco's hand gripped him by his shoulder.  
"But you won't either by over-working yourself. Trust me, I know." It was still somewhat eerie to see human emotions play over Draco's face, and now there was a sort of deep…sorrow in his eyes. "My father demanded a lot of me. But even he would allow me some time to recover. When was the last time you didn't do something for The Cause?" Harry tried to answer, but he couldn't admit he was right.  
"Let me guess," Draco asked him, his slight Malfoy sneer creeping back into place, "got up early, before anyone else-"'  
"It makes it easier, and I can do some morning training-"  
"Running miles and miles like a driven madman. Then you dive into classes, and afterwards? Homework, some more homework, and even more homework. Then you vanish for several hours, only to pop up again in the library to study the night away. If I didn't know better I'd bet you went to learn some more after the library closed down." Harry couldn't help it but he blushed, slightly. It was a very weird feeling that Draco seemed to care about him, even if he tried to hide it behind his mask of arrogance. In the time they spent together, he learned to read him like a book. And it also made him feel warm inside, strangely enough.  
"It is necessary!" He protested. "Training is good for my body; I need to be fit to fight. And I can't fight, if I don't know what I'm up against!"  
"Protest as much as you want, but I can tell you, that you won't be fighting He-Wh-…Voldemort if you drop dead from exhaustion. And you will, if you go on like that!" Anger seemed to rise within Draco and his face reddened. A weird thought crossed his mind as he looked into those grey eyes of his. He tried to stop it, but his mouth was faster than the mind.  
"It's so cute when you are angry," Harry innocently looked up with twinkling eyes.  
"I bloody mean it! Merlin, are you immature!"  
"Sorry," Harry, shaking his head, got serious again. "I guess you might – might – be right." Seeing the superior sneer spreading on Draco's face, he went on. "What does the Doctor suggest?"  
"There is Hogsmeade weekend coming up. We could go, and have some fun. Like in the good old days. Playing pranks and generally having a blast."  
But how? It's always been you on the receiving end of the pranks. I wouldn't be the same…" Harry snickered.  
"Oh yeah? Wait till I get you in a dark corner then we'll see…" He almost made it through his little speech without laughing, though he tried to hide it in a cough.  
"I'm shivering with expectation." Harry purred.  
"So, is that a yes?" Draco asked.  
"I guess so." Harry nodded. "I doubt you'll let go of the idea anytime soon, right?"  
"Of course not. It's a brilliant idea. But then, it is from me, so it has to be."  
Harry simply sighed. There he was, stuck with his former arch enemy who turned out to be just as bad as Hermione when it came down to push him into doing something he didn't want to. Though currently, it seemed to be the better deal.

* * *

To Harry, it seemed as if the week had just flown by. He couldn't control it, but he felt almost giddy. He had tried to suppress it, to sink down into his now familiar dark hole called mood. _Why would I feel so happy?_ Maybe he should have tried Draco as a friend from the very beginning. Draco's own arrogance made him almost immune to any hero complex, like that of a certain Weasel, and the darker sides of him were becoming strangely, well, attractive might be the word.  
_Was I turning dark, evil?_ His classmates certainly felt that way. It was a good thing he only spent sleeping in the Gryffindor Tower these days and left before the rest would wake up, and come back when they were fast asleep. They couldn't understand him, and certainly would never do. They are so stuck in their ideas of heroism and chivalry, that one thing would remain a vague and strange concept: The Dark side does not play fair and nice. Whenever he saw Sirius fall behind the curtain he was made painfully aware of it. It had been a likely conjecture that he would be outlawed by them. It still hurt him to know he was right. And he just hadn't seen it for all these years…  
Draco understood. He had seen to much of the Dark, been to much in contact with it to remain in this state of blissful ignorance the Gryffindors choose to stay. But maybe these feelings for Draco had a different source? Maybe today he would find out.  
He looked once again in the mirror and a crooked smile grew on his face. Wearing black trousers, a black silk shirt, that hugged closely to his muscular frame, completed by a burgundy velvet jacket, he looked very stylish, almost like those dandies of past times. His black hair flowed down the sides of his head and made his face look like it was sculpted out of alabaster with emeralds for eyes. The familiar form of Chien-Liu was wrapped around his right arm under the jacket.  
All in all very pleasing. Why he had gone to such lengths for his looks, he didn't know. But he wasn't about to change that now.  
He walked out of his room and down the staircase. Downstairs, several Gryffindors were making preparations to go out to Hogsmeade as well. Unfortunately, there was one group still present.  
"Oh, look," Ron immediately shouted, "it's the Dark Lord going out for a date!" He didn't even try to hide his derision. "We're not good enough for you, but ferret face isn't huh? Hope you enjoy your little date!" He could have ignored his anger. He could have played the wise and fair grown-up and just walked out of the common room. But he wasn't in the mood for it.  
In an instant, he was face-to-face with Ron, Hermione right by his side.  
"Listen," Harry hissed, "listen closely. Insult me again, and you will suffer. Insult him again, and you will suffer. Cross my path again, and you will suffer. I'm not joking, trust me. I will ignore it for this time, but the next time I won't be as lenient. You should learn where your place is, Ronald. The quicker you do the better for you." Without another word, Harry turned around and strode out of the common room. As he crossed the portrait hole, he could make out an eruption of voices. Though one thing still hung in his mind. _A date? It isn't…is it?  
_He waited in front of the Great Hall for Draco and when he arrived, he was transfixed. Dressed in black cord trousers, a white turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket, he simply looked gorgeous. _Gorgeous? Did I just think that?  
_"Ready?" Draco's voice ripped him from his dream world.  
"Eh, yeah, sure."  
Together they walked out of Hogwarts, ready for the fun of Hogsmeade.

* * *

Erald Nalfayn was a very patient man. He had spent weeks hunting for Siberian tigers, crouched through African tundra to kill a lion; mere days of inactivity didn't mean anything to him. When the alarm charm notified him of his prey's presence, he just deactivated it, calmly, efficiently, without wasting a single movement of the hand.  
A child. An unprepared one. It was almost too easy. The fact that it was the son of Lucius Malfoy didn't mean anything to him. He was a hunter, a killer. Not someone interested in politics and the inner workings of the Dark Lord's court.  
But his prey wasn't alone. As he watched through his spyglass, he saw another young man walk besides him. He assessed him, but wasn't found worth noticing. Just a useless, arrogant waste of a wizard as the young Malfoy, too caught up in his clothing than in the world around him. Cackling, he made his final preparations. Soon it would be over and he would get his reward. 


	12. Raising Shadows

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters,places et al.are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: There it is, a new chapter :) I hope you enjoy it. Now I can happily relax through my Christmas holidays :D Thanks again to rosemarie farie for beta-ing :)

**Chapter 12**

As he strolled down the main street of Hogsmeade side-by-side with Draco, Harry felt relaxed, especially after the disaster in the common room.  
It was late afternoon and still quite sunny for an October day. Even some birds could be heard chirping. Hogsmeade itself was throbbing with people, a lot of them Hogwarts students. He had to chuckle at those students who were enjoying their first Hogsmeade trip, gleefully glued to shop windows, laughing and joking. The older students were less avid, but still having their share of fun. And they seemed to steer away from Harry and Draco ever so slightly.  
"Have we ever been so young?" Harry asked Draco, who made his best attempt at hiding his amusement.  
"Certainly not, Harry. A Malfoy would never be seen having fun outside a dark and closed chamber. That's not becoming of nobility," Draco answered dead-serious. Only the glitter of humour in his eyes betrayed him.  
Harry quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Have you ever thought about taking that stick out of your ass? Must be getting painful over time."  
"Oh do shut up," Draco pouted. "There's no _stick_ in me." He wickedly grinned. "Yet."  
Harry shortly lost his focus and nearly tripped over his own feet. "Uh-what-what did you just say?" he stammered. _He can't have meant…? Am I really on a date? Oh Merlin…  
_"Never you mind," Draco answered, smiling innocently. "Where do we want to go now, anyway?" he went on without a pause.  
Still a bit of track, Harry took some seconds to recover his thoughts. "Wherever you want… I have no preference, really."  
"Are you in the mood for a bit shopping?" Draco asked. Before Harry could open his mouth to say anything, Draco went on. "I thought so, too. Let's do it!" he cheerfully said. Before Harry knew it, Draco was off for an intercept course for Honeydukes with Harry in tow.

* * *

Nalfayn was on the verge of throwing up. He now remembered why he hated Hogsmeade that much. This friendliness, the gaudiness, happy people all around him as he followed the Malfoy boy, it made him sick. He had always preferred to stay within the castle back in his school days.  
And the boy didn't help it, either. He followed him and his companion around Hogsmeade, always hidden within the masses. _How could anyone like to buy things that much?_ The boy must have been in each and every shop in Hogsmeade; and given the cloud of bags that surrounded him and his friend, the shops must be close to empty now.  
But he had to follow them. His master had been quite explicit in the orders he sent him. The young Malfoy was to die slow and painful (and if he could torture some knowledge about his father out of him before his demise, all the better). It should be an example, a clear signal to others who might be wavering in their support for the Dark Lord. But for this to happen, he must get him alone. He could do it right here, now, of course, but that was the shortest path to Azkaban. So he had to wait to get his prey alone or lure him away from his companion. He still had time. He was patient.  
"Can we rest now?" Harry sighed as he dragged what seemed to be a whole warehouse behind him. "I'm close to dropping dead, right now."  
"The Boy Who Lived, defeated by a shopping tour?" Draco snickered. "We can't allow that to happen, now can we? I guess a butterbeer will cheer you up again," he changed course for the Three Broomsticks.  
It felt still a bit strange to him. Just having a blast, joking around, with a Malfoy. Didn't he have a task, a destiny? Was he untrue to himself? It just felt so _good_. _Oh Sirius… If you just could be here and help me.  
_His thoughts were drawn back to the present as he suddenly was in the Three Broomsticks. It was packed but not unpleasantly so. The warm light of candles and the wooden décor made it hard for anyone to not feel strangely comfortable in here. Draco manoeuvred them through the other guests with a somnambulistic surety straight to a table in the back of the Broomsticks. Miraculously, it was untaken, and two butterbeers were standing on it. Harry looked quizzically at Draco.  
"Advanced planning," he answered with a smile. "I thought we might end here, so why not reserve a table, huh?"  
"Wicked mind of yours," Harry tipped an immaterial hat. He let himself fall into the bench and sighed deeply. "Finally," Harry stretched his legs under the table. "I think my feet may recover."  
"Wimp," Draco taunted. "You wouldn't last a second with my mother. I tell you…"  
"My shopping experiences are sadly limited, I have to admit that."  
"Except this summer? You made quite the progress with your clothes."  
Harry looked almost proud. "Thanks. Never believed it before, but the difference between bog-standard robes and hand tailored ones is really distinct."  
"'I told you so' doesn't even begin to describe my thoughts," Draco grinned.  
Harry reached for his mug but short of it, his fingers touched Draco's hand reaching out for his own mug. The second it happened, a jolt seemed to ripple from his fingertips to his body. _What was that?_ In shock, his hand snapped back, his head whipped around and his eyes locked with the silver-grey ocean of Draco's eyes. "Did you-" he began to speak.  
"Feel something?" Draco's shaky voice answered.  
"Yes," Harry answered coyly.  
"Yes, I did," Draco whispered.  
Slowly, without taking his eyes away from Draco, his hand moved forward, searching, feeling it's way carefully, until he felt another hand. It felt soft, warm. It felt inviting…  
Not shying away this time, he grabbed it. Draco's face dissolved into a warm smile, and Harry felt waves of diffuse happiness flow through his body.  
"I-" Harry tried to speak again, but just didn't know what to say. He was confused, surprised by his own feelings and emotions. And yes, he felt something for Draco. He had for quite some time, he was sure of that now, but hadn't had the guts to admit it to himself. Feelings bring pain. That he had learned. But when he looked into these eyes his resolve wavered like a tent in a hurricane. "Do you- I mean, what is happening?"  
"I think it speaks for itself, doesn't it," Draco said with the softest of voices, nuzzling Harry's hand. "I wasn't sure about this. But now I am."  
"What? This? You…planned for that?" Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Sort of, at least," Draco meekly answered. "I had those feelings, and I felt you had some, too. At least there was this intangible tension. I had to act, I was about to go crazy…"  
"I-I know what you mean. I felt that, too." Harry slid closer to Draco. "Have you done something like this before? I mean, those feelings and all…"  
"I thought I had," Draco answered, his eyes grew cold for a second. "But it was all fake, not real. I know that now. Pansy, I mean Parkinson, just wanted to be close to me because of who I am, or was, to be precise. But those feelings never were this…"  
"Honest," Harry interjected.  
"Yes, honest," Draco nodded, "that fits. But it is hard to see through it, through all those ass kissers and sycophants. But then again, I never tried to, in the first place. I always assumed they were, well, friends. Turns out they're just interested in my family's status, the power it conveys. Now that's down the drain…"  
"Must have hit hard to realise…" Harry stretched out his other hand and carefully touched Draco's cheek. As he touched, Draco leaned into the touch.  
"So, Harry looked at Draco with a weird look on his face, "does that mean…you and me…?"  
"Dating? A couple?" Draco smiled again, flashing his perfect teeth, "yes, if you want?"  
Thoughts raced through his mind like lightning bolts. Did he want this? He couldn't risk another life. Whoever came close to him would only suffer for what Harry was.  
"I really do," Harry sighed, tears in his eyes, "but I can't. I can't just have you risk your life by being with me. Don't you see it? Everyone around me dies, gets hurt. You would be better of without me."  
"No, I wouldn't. And it would be my risk to make, and I'm willing to do it with every fibre of my heart."  
Before he could retort, Draco closed in, until he could feel his hot breath on his cheeks. And then their lips gently touched. It felt as if a high energy current suddenly discharged, but this time he didn't shy away. His lips were so soft and full. His other hand grabbed Draco's head and pulled him tight to his body. He felt something stir deep within himself, like something huge just woke up as he kissed him, like the proverbial sleeping dragon.  
"Hah!" A triumphant shout ripped Harry from the blissful dream of a kiss back into the harsh reality. "I knew it," a voice hollered. Harry slowly turned his head around and saw Ron proudly standing near their table, with a shocked Hermione next to him. "The Dark Freak is snogging ferret face. How low can you sink?"  
Harry felt rage boil up in him. "Ronald," he said, his voice showing no signs of his inner hurricane of emotions, "haven't you listened what I told you in the common room? You're too stupid to even realise a threat, do you?"  
"I don't give a shit for your threats, you fruitcake," Ron shouted. "Getting cosy with the enemy. No, no. You are the enemy."  
"The only thing that currently saves you is the fact that I feel quite comfortable where I am. But it would a wise move to not further test my patience. You have had your moment, now can you please leave? I'm a bit busy here with Dr-, with my boyfriend."  
"Come Ron," Hermione nagged from behind, "it's not worth it. Come, let's go somewhere else. We're not welcome here."  
"Ok," Ron said to Hermione and as he walked away, pointed at Harry. "I'll get you, someday," he said in a low voice. Then Ron and Hermione were out of sight.  
"Yes, one day," Harry whispered.  
"You're serious?" Draco nudged him. "About us?"  
"Yes," Harry slowly said. "Yes, now I am."

* * *

Nalfayn had endured this whole scene for as long as it had lasted. If he had another butterbeer, he would spray the whole location with his vomit. And watching the boy play lovebird with another boy. Merlin, it was disgusting.  
Not that same-sex relationships were something uncommon. No, in that respect the wizarding world was just like the muggle world. But it was still unorthodox to openly show it for a child of such an esteemed family. Normally things like that were kept hidden from public eye, like almost every other private detail. But the young Malfoy seemed to spit on the old traditions with a happy smile on his face. How the mighty have fallen…  
He would pay for it, of course. If only he got his chance to strike, that is. The other boy was almost glued to him and they haven't moved from the table for hours it seemed.  
He was just about to seriously consider dropping his masquerade and just kill him and everybody else and be done with it, when the other boy stood up. He said something to the Malfoy boy, who seemed to be pouting now, and walked in the general direction of the bathroom.  
_I won't get a better chance.  
_Nalfayn acted. He lifted himself from his hiding spot and without saying a word stood next to the bench his prey sat on and quickly had his wand out and pressed into Malfoy's side.  
"Don't say a word," he whispered while faking a warm smile. "That's a wand in your back and I have no qualms killing you here. Just smile and nod, understood?" He pressed his wand further in to reinforce his threat."  
Draco complied.  
"Good boy," Nalfayn coolly said. "Now slowly get up and then we will walk out of here. No word from you. If you try to flee, you're dead."  
"What you want from me?" he asked frightened.  
"That is not your concern yet, just do as I say."  
"And if not? What if I refuse to leave with you?"  
"Oh," Nalfayn answered with a weird smile on his face, "you wouldn't want your boyfriend to die painfully before your very eyes, now would you?"  
"You wouldn't-" the boy stammered, "Not in front of all these people…"  
"Try me," Nalfayn gripped the boy's arm. "Now, move."  
The fear he might actually do as he said made the boy move. Nalfayn walked closely behind him, his wand always pointed at the back of the boy. As he walked out of the Broomsticks, he ushered the Malfoy boy towards the end of the village and the treeline.

* * *

When Harry came back from the bathroom, he was surprised to not find Draco waiting for him. Maybe he was getting some drinks?  
Harry sat down and waited. After about five minutes, he got a bit nervous. Five minutes later, he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and about to freak out.  
He got up and went looking for Draco in the Broomsticks, but he couldn't find him.  
He asked around if anyone had saw Draco. An older man near the door seemed to have seen him. "Almost as tall as me, long blond hair, good looking?"  
"Yeah, kinda like tha'," he answered, "seemed like fairly nice bloke, left with an ol'er man. Really ugly one, but they seemed t' be friends. At least both were smiling as they left."  
"When?" Harry snapped.  
"Kinda like fifteen, twenty minutes ago I guess."  
"Thanks," Harry said as he stormed out of the Three Broomsticks.  
His mind raced. Draco, leaving with an older man he didn't know? He would have waited for me. Something is terribly wrong here… I need to find him, quickly. As if on command, his panic subsided and got replaced by a professional calm, the cold, uncaring, new Harry.  
But where was he to look? His head whipped around. But there were just too many people there, and none looked like Draco. Footsteps were everywhere, nothing distinct.  
Suddenly, he felt something, like a beacon calling to him, a feeling of direction. Like a moth was drawn towards the light, so was he towards this direction. Slowly at first, then running, he trusted his intuition. But was it intuition? It was so precise, so powerful…  
Quickly, he left the village behind and rushed at first through a sparse line of trees, then a thick forest. He lost track of time, only this throbbing beacon in his mind counted.  
When he heard voices, he stopped dead. He concentrated his mind and was able to make out two distinct sources of sound. One was a deep voice, speaking slowly and carefully. The other one was a whimpering sound, like someone was in deep pain. _Draco!  
_Harry pushed his emotions back into a corner of his mind and his cold, calculating intellect locked them carefully in. No foolish actions like the old Harry would have done. Only calculated risks and plans…  
The forest was quite dense here and he couldn't sense nor feel anyone else present. He took out his wand and a grim determination settled in place on his face.  
"Obtenebra maxima!" he weaved a short but complex pattern with his wand and suddenly, the forest around him was dark, the surroundings loosing all colour, all remnants of light as if the world just drowned in a sea of nothingness. For Harry's eyes, everything was a ghost-like shadow of itself. The trees were wavy pillars of a white smoke, the ground an ocean of swirling clouds of gas and smoke. He heard an outcry of astonishment and what seemed to be cursing. Harry just smiled and started walking.

* * *

"Crucius!" Nalfayn proclaimed with profound disgust in his voice. Ahead of him, hanging from the bough of a tall oak, the Malfoy boy whimpered. So far, the boy had shown to be quite resilient. He had even managed to resist the Imperius curse. That blasted boy had obviously been practising. Either with his mother, what he suspected, or the father. But if the easy road was closed to him, he still had other options. And it was only a matter of time and patience until he reached a level of pain sufficient enough to break the boy.  
"Now, talk, and I will end it," he baited him. All he got as an answer was yet another whimper. He didn't even have enough life left in his body to scream. He was getting close…  
"You're doing yourself a favour if you end it quickly. I have time. Just tell me what you know about your fath-" Something was very wrong here. A strange feeling crept out of the woods behind him. He slowly turned around. The only thing he saw was a wall of darkness come crashing towards him like a huge wave. Then there was only blackness. Nothing. He was blind. His mind raced. He had no clue what just had happened, but it was no good sign. He whipped around, pointing his wand manically around, trying to hear something. When he finally did, he shivered.  
"Now, now, now," a cold voice suddenly spoke from around him coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time like a ghost. "You picked the wrong one, my friend. But don't worry; there won't be enough time for you to regret it." A harsh laugh erupted. He took his wand, and cast killing spells wildly around him.  
"The secrets of the darkness and shadows are powerful friends to have. I still don't know why they're nothing more than obscure knowledge nowadays. Because it's quite difficult to kill someone if you can't see, isn't it?" A stab of pain in his right leg made him stumble as a charm hit him. "Not that I have the same problem," the bodiless voice chuckled from behind him. "Petrificus Totalus!" was all he heard, and then he dropped like a stone.  
As if it had never been there, the blackness vanished and he looked up in the face of the boy Malfoy had been with. And he smiled toothily at him. He went out of his field of view and from the sounds of it freed the Malfoy boy, then he was back with him again.  
Now the boy was only barely controlling rage and anger, and it was directed at him. He bowed down and pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.  
"Sent to kill Draco? But why? Why would he kill the son of Lucius?" The dark-haired boy asked and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Oh, state an example? Voldemort must be getting desperate if he has to kill the son of Lucius Malfoy to keep the others in check, and especially desperate, if he sends someone like you. There I was, hoping for a worthy opponent, and all I got was you. Pity. But now, tell me, where is the Dark Lord? You must certainly know." With a flick of his wand, he allowed Nalfayn to speak.  
"I won't tell you anything," he spat.  
"Ah ,yes," the boy actually smiled. "I was hoping you might say that." The wand pointed at his face. "Crucius," he said it almost lovingly.  
Nalfayn tried to control himself, but it was too much, too powerful. He screamed, screeched like a stuck pig. When the pain vanished he gasped for air and opened his eyes again. The young Malfoy now stood very weakly next to the black-haired one, blood dripping from his lips and a deep cut in his temple.  
"Harry, don't…" he said weakly.  
"Shhh," The boy called Harry hushed his former prey. Harry…He can't mean Potter? He looked up and frantically searched the face of him. When he saw glimpses of the lightning scare, he froze. He could have killed the arch nemesis of the Dark Lord. He had been just inches away from him the whole time. His face distorted into a mask of frustration and pain.  
"Oh, you didn't know?" The boy he now knew to be Potter laughed. "Oh, the irony. Sent to kill Draco, you completely missed me. Some killer you are…" He shook his head. "Now, where have we stopped?" He playfully scratched his temple with the wand. "Ah yes, Voldemort's hide-out. Please, tell me…"  
"I can't tell you, _Potter_," he said through clenched teeth. "No one knows. I'm not the keeper of the secret. You can torture me all you want, it won't change that."  
"Well, we can arrange for that, surely." Potter chuckled. Young Malfoy stood beside him and was too weak to say anything it seemed. "But I don't have time to play and if you say the truth – and I would think you do, Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to have a plotable and findable hide-out, after all – you're now quite useless to me. And after what you did to my boyfriend here…" He pointed the wand again at him. "Avada Kadavra," was the last thing Nalfayn ever heard. 


	13. Riddles in the Woods

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters,places et al.are owned by J.K. Rowling**

A/N: And another one :) shorter, but a bit of a transition. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 13**

Harry breathed heavily as he sat down on the old bed upstairs in the Shrieking Shack. Draco lay on the bed, still weak from his torture.  
After Draco's torturer had seen his end, Harry had tried to remove any signs of their presence. Draco was too weak to walk alone, so Harry supported him as he walked away, always careful to remove their footsteps so no one could follow. He couldn't go back to Hogsmeade, not with Draco and the way he looked. People would ask questions. So he made for the Shack, a place he knew to be quite deserted. It was a tedious walk – especially since he had to cover their tracks - but they made it without being seen.  
He sighed and fell backwards on the bed. "Are you alright?" he asked Draco, who breathed weakly.  
"Getting better," he whispered. "Just give me a few minutes."  
"Sure…" Harry breathed out and got up again, taking out his wand out. "Don't move, please. Just patching you up again." He cast a simple repairing spell on Draco's clothes. The rips and cuts merged and healed until they looked just about new; if he only could say that about Draco, as well. Luckily, only a few bruises in the face, a cut lip and some cut on the temple. He would be able to explain it away with a simple stumble and no one would ask questions. Draco looked up and watched his clothes.  
"Thanks…" He tried to get up but only managed to stabilize his head on his hand. "How do you feel?" he asked, his breathing getting steadier.  
"Feel?" Harry just looked at him. "I don't know. Relieved you're still alive?"  
"I mean...You killed him. Just so, cold-blooded." Draco said.  
"He hurt you," Harry answered with a cold voice. "He deserved to die. All Death Eaters do."  
"But what did you _feel_?"  
Harry was silent. He tried to say he did feel something. Anything. But he didn't. There was just a cold, dark spot in his mind. "Why should I feel something for this – this creature?"  
"It would be human, I guess," Draco frowned. "You used an Unforgivable, just like that."  
"Yes, I did. Learning to fight fire with fire. He would have killed you. Why should I be nicer to him? Are you afraid of me?"  
"No," Draco quickly answered. "No, I just never thought you changed quite _that_ drastically. But I'm not afraid of you. You saved my life, and I love you, come what may. Darkness is no stranger to me. It's part of my life."  
Harry bent down and kissed him on his forehead.  
"I love you, too," he smiled, for the first time since the forest. "But we have to be careful. There certainly will be some sort of investigation. It's not every day dead Death Eaters just lie around in forests. I tried to cover our tracks as thorough as I could. But if anyone asks you, we were here, and you accidentally stumbled and walked against a door. You should be used to this kind of reasoning." Draco actually chuckled as he remembered the clash with Ron in the school corridors.  
"It'll be our secret."  
Yes, it will," he smiled again and lay down again next to Draco, just holding his hand.

* * *

She really hated this part of the job. Tightly clutching her cup of coffee, Elizabeth Banish walked through the shrubbery behind Hogsmeade. Her boss hated her, of course. So she always got the weird cases not deemed important for real Auror presence. _Arrogant pricks_. The morning was exceptionally cold, and not even the sun could warm her up. Why can't murderers observe some time schedule? Afternoons would fit her perfectly. She took another sip of coffee before her assistant, Phil, came walking for her. Her assistant, a good-looking brown-haired man just fresh from police training, looked again stunningly fresh and relaxed for this time of the morning. _One of these days he's got to tell me how he's doing it…  
_"Good morning," he smiled. He damn well knew she was no morning person. She mumbled something unintelligible before she asked him, "What we have here?"  
"A killed Death Eater. Very strange thing," he answered her. Phil wasn't easily spooked or clueless, but it seemed this one was special.  
He showed her a small clearing in the woods, and there, in the middle of it, a older man lay still, a sleeve of his robes rolled up to reveal the Dark Mark.  
"Inspector," the small pot-bellied coroner wizard walked up to her before she could ask more questions. "For a moment?"  
"Of course," Inspector Elizabeth Banish politely answered and pulled out her notepad. "What did you find out?"  
"I have made some tests, and it is true. He died by the Killing Curse."  
"Anything else?" she asked as she wrote it down on her notepad.  
"He's been through a Cruciatus Curse, but apart from that, no. Nothing on him. There's some other magic around here, but I haven't seen anything like it before. No clue, I'm afraid."  
"Thank you so far. You'll send the report to my office?"  
"Of course, as always."  
She turned to the young man standing next to her. "What you make of it, Phil?"  
Her assistant consulted his own notepad, then said, "It is very curious. Erad Nalfayn, a suspected-"  
Inspector Banish cleared her throat.  
"A confirmed Death Eater, killed by the Killing Curse. The whole scenery is weird. From the look of it, Nalfayn was not alone her. Someone hung from that tree there, so much is sure. But we haven't found any footsteps, and it seems someone did a very good job of getting rid of any traces. Would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named be so stupid and kill one of his followers so close to a huge concentration of wizards? And not even making a show of it?"  
"My questions exactly."  
Before she could go on, a guard came hurrying towards her position. "Inspector," he shouted exasperated. "Over here!" He pointed in the thick of the woods. She quickly walked over there. "What is it? Found anything?"  
"Yes, Inspector," another guard excitedly answered. "Footsteps, from around the time of the murder. The way it looks, that person came over from around Hogsmeade, stopped here, and then moved on again."  
"Can you say anything more detailed about it?"  
"Sneakers, and most likely male, from the size of it. Not too deep a footstep, and not very large. If I was to tell, a slight man, or a boy. For more, we have to get the specialists to work."  
"Do it," she said and slowly walked from the position towards the habitat of the body.  
"I don't understand that. Even if he carefully hid himself between trees and shrubs, he couldn't have made his way completely undetected. Or he is a master of silent moving."  
"It really doesn't fit together," Phil murmured from behind her. "One question, though. What would you think of getting a diviner to find out about this mysterious magical aura found here?"  
"Yes, good thinking," she nodded. "Get one. Maybe this will give us added information. And we need to get into contact with Hogawarts."  
Phil looked puzzled."Why Hogwarts?"  
"He said it could be a young man. And Hogwarts had its Hogsmeade weekend."  
"You don't think-?" He gasped. "It can't be possible."  
"It happened before, remember…"

* * *

No light from the outside pervaded the dark and gloomy dungeon. The only sounds were the cackling of fires and the shuffling of feet and robes.  
When he spoke, it was as if a bomb shell exploded. "Fools!" Voldemort hissed. "Do I have to do everything myself? How hard can it be to kill a single boy?"  
No one dared speaking up and all were busy looking down.  
"Bellatrix, come here!" He said into the silence.  
A hooded person stepped forward. "Yes, My Lord?"  
"I hope you will not disappoint me," the Dark Lord said dangerously. "Kill the Malfoy boy. And find out who killed Nalfayn. And don't _disappoint me_," his voce dropped several grades of coolness.  
"I won't, My Lord," she bowed and slowly walked back to her position.

* * *

"And," Elizabeth addressed the old wizard, "found anything of interest?" He was tall, but thin as a stick, and looked quite frail. But he was the best expert on magical auras they could get their hands on in the short time.  
"Yes, I have," he answered her with a deep voice that belied his stature.  
"Then, what is it?" She was beginning to get frustrated. He took his time for the simplest things. Time she didn't have, and so far, he seemed impervious to her agitation.  
"Something very dark, very old. Magic of the Shadows," he sounded ominous.  
"Should this tell me something?"  
"No, I guess not," he said deep in thought. "It's a very ancient field of magic. And very dangerous. It is not…fashionable nowadays."  
"Could you elaborate? Is it Dark Magic?"  
"No," he shook his head avidly. "No, it's something else entirely. It was used in ancient times, and only obscure references exist today. Most people wouldn't even know it."  
"But why?" she asked curiously.  
"Dark or Light magic. It's just a subjective thing, what we choose to label dark. Using it has no real influence on you. Even the purest of peopel could use a Dark spell without consequences to his body. But this _magic_…" He fell silent for a second, like he couldn't believe his own words. "It consumes you, physically. You get torn apart, eaten from within by a darkness, the very shadows this magic evokes. As more and more people became afraid to use it, to pay the price, the less people knew about it. To my knowledge, the last user died some three hundred years ago in this country."  
"Someone obviously uses it now," she silently said. "It is no good news, is it?"  
"If you get consumed, you become something _else_. Great battles were fought because of it. Interesting times may be ahead of us." He looked away from them and was about to walk away to his transportation.  
But before he was out of sight, she shot another question at him, curious. "Do you know anything more about it? It's powers?"  
He turned around, his eyes deep in thought. "Only stories and obscure references exist, really. No manual, if you will. It was reported to grant you control of the shadows, manipulate them, _use_ them. If some rumours are true they are not from this world, once the magiker touches them with his mind. Truly horrific things have been done. Not even He-Who-Is-Not-Mentioned must put up a fight to equal these dark times." He slightly shivered and turned his head away. "You are free to visit me in my study if you need more information, or if you have some information for me."  
"Thank you, I will keep it in mind."  
After he was away, her assistant stepped to her side. "Do you believe him? It sounds so strange…"  
"Well, no one else knew about it. Not that I like what he said. Interesting times indeed."  
"But it didn't get us any step forward, did it?"  
"Well," she slowly turned her head, "at least we know it's someone with extraordinary knowledge. And possibly a student at Hogwarts. The Headmaster won't be too pleased." 


	14. Meetings in the Morning

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters,places et al.are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: and another one :) If you find any mistakes, you can keep them :P Thanks for the nice reviews, keep them coming :D

**Chapter 14**

„Thanks for seeing us, Headmaster," Elizabeth Banish nodded towards Professor Dumbledore. Elizabeth and Phil took a set in front of Dumbledore's great desk. It was quite early in the morning, and the weak rays of autumn sun cast the room in its usual warm gold.  
"Any time, Inspector," he answered her and looked her up and down, smiling. "You've come a long way from the last time I saw you." He chuckled. "I still remember you as the little girl frightened and yet fascinated of this strange world, this magical world."  
She slightly blushed. And from the corner of her eyes she could see Phil hide a chuckle. Damn him to hell… "I had great teachers," she smiled at him.  
"Your father would have been very proud of you," Dumbledore's calm voice said with a hint of mourn in it.  
She had to swallow hard. She didn't like to be reminded of her father. She would have liked to remember him the way he had been – a dutiful, resourceful inspector, never auror-material, but then he didn't mind, loving family man, who always told funny stories about his many travels and jobs. But all she could remember was the broken corpse, what had been left after the attack by a Death Eater. A Death Eater who still ran around, possibly killing as he went along. She clenched her fists, but instantly relaxed them again. _Calm down, Elizabeth. You know the drill. Nice and friendly…  
_"I don't often talk about him, Headmaster," she didn't look him in the eyes, "but I guess he would have liked that I followed in his footsteps." She swallowed again, and looked up towards Dumbledore. "Anyways, Headmaster, I fear there are far more urgent, and distressing, things that brought me here."  
"Yes, yes, Elizabeth," Dumbledore nodded. "To what do I owe your presence in the school?"  
"There has been a murder in the forest near Hogsmeade," she said in her cool business voice. "He was under some torture by the Cruciatus before his death which was dealt by the Killing Curse."  
"I heared something about this," Dumbledore nodded heavily. "But I wonder what brings you here?"  
Elizabeth fidgeted a bit in her chair. "Well, Headmaster, our initial research brought evidence to light that suggests the deed was done by some young boy, or a very thin and light man. And as it has been Hogsmeade weekend of your school…"  
"You think it might be a student. Correct?" Dumbledore looked at her and it seemed a shadow had laid itself on his face.  
"It is only one line of our investigation. But I have to follow every lead, as unpleasant as it might be."  
"I understand that." He suddenly smiled again. "Well, of course you're free to question the students. I'll have a list of all the students who were away owled to you. But don't expect to find much." He cast a curious glance at her.  
"Thank you very much, Headmaster," she said and got up. "I won't take more of your tight schedule. We'll walk around the school a bit if you don't mind, and if possible, would like to start talking to some students as soon as we processed the list."  
"I will inform them of your presence then. I will hope you'll find the ones responsible."  
As they left, Phil whispered in her ear, "He's hiding something. Just a weird feeling I got."  
"Of course he is," he answered him. "He always does, and I would be very surprised if he didn't this time around. It's going to be a very interesting investigation, that's for sure."  
The students they came across as they walked the corridors were all curious as to who they may be, but no one dared speak to them. All in all, everything was just the way she remembered Hogwarts. And she remembered the evil that had crept out of it before; it might happen again.

* * *

Side by side, Harry and Draco walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. As soon as he was through, a storm of whispers and furtive glances were cast into their general direction. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs just seemed to take mild interest in it, just like bystanders might watch a train accident about to happen. And maybe they were also counting on some house points falling into their general direction if the other two houses were otherwise preoccupied. It was a fair bit, really. Slytherin and Gryffindor tables looked as if they hadn't really decided yet what to do first: just tear Harry and Draco apart, or throw themselves the Gryffindor table and tear them apart. The resentment and open hatred could be cut with a knife. Harry wondered how long this calmness would actually last.  
This also proved to be a problem for Harry and Draco in a very life-threatening situation: were to eat?  
Harry definitely didn't want to sit at Gryffindor table, and from the look of it, the table wouldn't mind at all if he got lost in the first place. There still was an empty table at the Slytherin one. Draco seemed quite reluctant, but in the end walked with Harry towards it. They sat down, and started eating.  
But Harry felt there was something wrong with Draco, and he didn't tell him. It wasn't normal to flinch when sitting down. And when he touched Draco around his waist as they walked towards the Hall, he also flinched. He had said nothing as he thought Draco might say what's wrong. He hadn't and Harry's patience was growing thin.  
"What's wrong with you?" he asked between sips of his tea. "Are you hurt?"  
Draco looked up and faked a not very convincing smile. "No, I'm feeling fine. It's all ok."  
"Don't lie to me," Harry said, his eyes showing concern. "I love you; you should know that by now. You can tell me everything…"  
"I-" He swallowed. "I'm fine."  
"No, you aren't," Harry said louder than he wanted to. "I can see that something pains you. What happened? Please tell me!"  
"It is nothing you need to know," he finally admitted at least something was wrong. "I can handle it myself."  
For a moment, Harry had the old Draco sitting right before him, all haughty and proud. He felt anger rise in him. And something else. Worry for Draco? "Now spit it out! Or –" Now Harry's voice grew harder. "Or I'll just get up and walk away. I won't stand any more lies, by anyone."  
Draco looked at him for several moments, but stayed silent. Just as Harry was about to get up, he opened his mouth. "No," he almost whispered. "Please stay."  
"Then tell me what happened."  
"They…talked to me last night. Somehow, they already knew about –" He slightly chocked on his last words. "-about us. Crabbe and Goyle, they said I put shame on the house, and they're not taking it. I should leave you alone, and behave like a good Slytherin. I resisted. They hurt me. Beat me, where my clothes would hide it. I didn't-"  
Harry couldn't stand hearing it anymore. Primal rage burnt his way through his carefully maintained calmness like a hot knife through butter. Before anyone could react, Harry was on his feet and raced over to Crabbe and Goyle. With his hands, he ripped both from their positions on the bench. They thudded to the ground with satisfying yelps of pain. They shook their meaty heads, but before anyone could react, he already had his wand out, pointed straight at them.

* * *

"Now, can you just look up the list and –" Elizabeth was suddenly interrupted as she walked by the Great Hall. A voice, full with rage, thundered through the Hall.  
Quickly, she stepped close and looked through the open doors. It was not a pretty sight. The teachers all seemed to have finished breakfast, as only students were present. And all those students looked to one boy, next to the Slytherin table. He was tall, and would have been actually quite good-looking if not for the rage that twisted his face into an ugly mask. The fiery stare bore down on two bulky boys lying on the floor before him, their eyes full of fear.  
"If you touch him one bloody more time," the boy roared through the Great Hall, "if he has so much as a dent in his cloak, you'll have me to answer. I'll be your worst nightmare, and you won't be safe from me anywhere. I'll find you! Is that clear?"  
The boys just nodded vigorously. Another boy with perfect looks and blond hair stood behind the raging boy. The features… He knew them, but who- Then it hit her; aMalfoy. Just like Lucius… His face was torn between this Malfoy sneer she knew so well, and another mien. Like a lover watches his beloved. _Strange_…  
Without a further word, the boy snapped his wand back into his cloak and stormed out of the Hall, the other boy racing to stop him. The leading boy seemed to have missed her, as he slammed full force into her.  
"Who the-" he started, but when he saw she was no regular, his mouth shut with a click.  
"That could get you in a lot of trouble, Mr…?" she looked at him again. Now, as if a switch had been thrown, he looked at her with ultimate calm, calculating. It sent shivers down her spine.  
"Potter," he simply answered with a cold voice. "And you'll be?"  
Potter? _The_ Potter? Now that she looked at him more closely, she could make out slight semblances to the pictures in the news papers. But he looked so different. She would have never thought that this was the The Boy Who Lived. "Inspector Elizabeth Banish," she answered him calmly. "I'm here for a little investigation in regards to some problems in Hogsmeade." It was a slight underestimation, but she didn't want to give her true cause right away. Sometimes it was good to keep people a bit in the dark. But what she saw in Potter's eyes, and casting quickly at the Malfoy young, made her think. Just as if they knew what she was talking about?  
"Haven't seen anything strange there," he said, not breaking his cool for a second. "My boyfriend spent most of the time in the Broomsticks."  
Boyfriend? Oh my, this is going to be interesting… "Anyway, Mr. Potter," she said finally, "I've to go now. But I guess we'll be seeing us soon enough. And be careful with the temper of yours. I won't tell, I know how it goes around here after all, but teachers aren't as forgiving as I am." She winked them good-bye and walked away, towards the exit.

* * *

"Are you crazy?" Draco attacked him when they were up in the astronomy tower between classes under the embraces of a silencing charm.  
"No," Harry shook his head. "Not that I know…"  
"What did you think back then in the Great Hall?"  
"I just..." He looked him in the eyes. "I just couldn't stand you being hurt. I had to- to hurt them back. I won't stand back and take this without doing something." He clutched Draco's hand.  
"You don't have to protect me. I could have handled it-"  
"It doesn't matter. You belong to me now. No way I won't do nothing. I will not loose someone I love again." His voice made clear that this was above discussion. "And you weren't exactly eager to stop me if I remember…"  
Draco blushed. "I don't know… It felt so strange, to have someone love you so much and show it this way. It was so-" He lowered his voice to a mere whisper, "-hot to have you fight for me." His face split into a very tantalising grin. He grabbed the baffled Harry and drew him in for a hard and long kiss. When they broke, Harry just smiled, but Draco went on talking.  
"Still, your outbreak in the Hall and this Inspector… She was talking about that guy in the woods. She investigates it. And I think you just got her interest. This could be dangerous."  
"Pah," Harry snorted, still grinning. "She won't find out. After all, there's no evidence left. She can look all she wants."  
"Nonetheless, we've got to be careful. This is a thin rope we're walking."  
"And we will manage." Now it was Harry to leer at Draco. "Now, I think we should deepen the conversation some more…"


	15. Plans and Speculation

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

**A/N:** another one :) Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 15**

"For a word, Potter," Snape called out from his desk. He looked at Draco, but he just shrugged. He was turning back into the dungeon when he spoke again, "Alone."  
Draco shrugged again mouthed "I wait outside" and left.  
Harry stepped closer to Professor Snape. He had known his good luck wasn't meant to last, but it had been really nice to be left unmolested by Snape the last weeks. Hermione still nearly went berserk as Harry's grades topped hers. That was just a topping, though.  
Looking at the Professor, he wasn't sure what to expect. He seemed to hold Harry in a cold, calculating glare, unlike the disgust and hatred of former times. He wasn't sure what was worse.  
"Is something wrong, Professor?" Harry asked innocently.  
"Well," Snape slowly spoke, "of course you wouldn't have thought that your attack on Slytherin students yesterday morning would go unnoticed, would you?"  
Harry was silent for a few more seconds. "Not really," he admitted finally. "Whatever you may say or do, they still deserved it."  
Snape slightly inclined his head to the left and again looked in a funny way at him. "Be that as it may, Potter-" and the way he pronounced his name still sounded, almost, like an insult, "-why should I ignore it and not have you in detention for a week?"  
"If your house's students would behave, we wouldn't have this conversation," Harry said hotly.  
Snape chuckled. "Getting even more reckless by the day, Potter. I give you that. Either you are suddenly developing delusions of grandeur or there is really something behind your façade." He took his wand out and played with its tip. "Of course I know of your budding, ah, relationship with Mr. Malfoy. Not that it would be a secret, anyway. So I have talked with Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. And given the things they finally revealed, they really deserved it." His glance suddenly held a different feeling. Harry was tempted to call it honesty. "Think of me as you like, and I know you think a lot of things that would get you into deep trouble, I am not taking this kind of events lightly. Open violence between house members is intolerable." That fights between houses is something entirely different naturally went unspoken. "Thus, I let you go unpunished for this. But a warning, Potter," he lowered his head, "this relationship between Mr. Malfoy and you is, especially for the nobler family's, an affront. I would learn to control my temper when it comes down to Mr. Malfoy a bit more if I were you. It would become your future in this school."  
Harry was puzzled and obviously looked it. "Why are you telling me that?"  
Snape simply brushed a hand through the air. "Enough, Potter. I have not all day for this. Just heed my advice. Off you go."  
Still puzzled, Harry walked out. As he closed the door, Draco was on him. "What did he do? It was not for yesterday, was it?"  
"No-Yes-I don't know. He just said we should be careful. Dunno why."  
"Well, just take every bit of luck you can get," Draco laughed.  
The curious feeling dissolved as he saw Draco laugh. It was almost like magic.

* * *

"So, what do we have?" Elizabeth asked her assistant. Comfortably lying back in her chair her eyes wandered around her office. It was a dusty mess, littered with rolls of parchment, evidence, and half-eaten snacks, but it was her mess. Across the desk, Phil was hunched over a parchment holding the names of students Dumbledore had promised.  
"It's as we guessed," he looked up. "Almost all the students who were old enough to go, did so. Only fourteen stayed at Hogwarts, which leaves a rather long list for us to look over."  
"Can't we narrow it down a little more?"  
"A bit," he nodded. "We can leave the ones too small for the footprints we found. We still have to go over all the rest. Their alibis, where they were,…"  
She silently chewed on a pencil and pondered. She couldn't get that one scene out of her mind. "Might as well start with Harry Potter;" she simply said.  
Phil just sighed. "Oh please Elizabeth," his eyes were almost pleading. "Just leave this, will you?"  
"But you saw him, too, in Hogwarts. He attacked these boys, and when he found out who we were - switched from hot-headed teenager to calculating and cold-blooded within a second. That is suspicious."  
"That can be said for many people."  
"But those eyes," she tipped her chair back a bit. "I just have this feeling-"  
"Please don't do that to me," Phil now actually whined. "You do remember the last time you had 'this feeling'?"  
"That was something completely different," she exclaimed.  
"The hell it was. The last 'feeling' exploded in your face so spectacularly that if it wasn't for Chief Bennson having been a good friend of your father you'd be scrubbing toilets in some godforsaken mental asylum."  
"But-"  
"But this time it is even worse. Harry Potter of all people!" he threw his hands up in despair. "If we don't have absolutely watertight evidence they'll have your badge for it and you have wrecked what last bit of career you, and I, might have. It's the bloody Boy-Who-Lived."  
"I know," she said silently. Partially, she knew he was right. She had followed her gut and it led her into a chasm of bad luck; she even ignored evidence that went against her feeling. Still, the feeling was there. "Just let us think about it again, ok?"  
Phil breathed heavily. "Ok."  
"We have a dead Death Eater," she said.  
"Check." Phil nodded.  
"And we have evidence that someone was hanging from that tree at the time of his death."  
"Check."  
"We have some footprints."  
"Check," he nodded again.  
"And a presence of a very obscure kind of magic."  
"Check, again."  
"So, let my thoughts wander for a moment," her voice went into speculation mode. "Nelfayn was torturing the someone from the tree, was somehow surprised by a person following him and ultimately killed. Unknown person freed hanging person and fled together."  
Phil thought about if shortly and then nodded. "A possibility. And now what?"  
She tipped her hand towards a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Lucius Malfoy is still on the run, we haven't heard of him. I'm sure we would have, one way or the other. He hasn't had to be shy about being a Death Eater now. What if he left his master?"  
"He wouldn't-"  
"What if he did? Would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tolerate it? Wouldn't he do something to punish him?"  
"Like?"  
"Like assassinating his son? He and Potter are a couple now. The way he reacted in the school. Who knows what he does in worse situations?"  
"But this weird magic? And an Unforgivable?" Phil said, still unconvinced.  
"He has been through enough grave situations; he has seen things none of us has. Who knows?"  
"But lets think again," Phil went on. "Let's go on this Lucius tangent." Elizabeth winced. "Just forget your past, ok? Now, what if it was, say, Lucius on the rope, who came here to meet his son, got captured, tortured, somehow freed himself – he is rather resourceful, one doesn't flee Azkaban just so – and the footprints are his son's who came looking for him?"  
Elizabeth shook her head. "That's-"  
"Just as likely, or unlikely, as your idea. We just don't have enough evidence to say anything with something even remotely like certainty. We should look at the case open-minded and present our findings when we're done. But until that, we should handle this as unobtrusive as possible. And even if it was Potter, who cares? Nalfayn was a Death Eater, he had it coming. No one gives a rat's ass about him."  
"Justice, Phil," Elizabeth said with a calm voice, "Justice. I am not crying a tear for Nalfayn, but murder, even of scum like that, is still murder. I can't forget that."  
"Ok," he waved her down, "ok. But please don't blow our careers this time. Please."

* * *

"You're bloody crazy," Draco said aloud. Draco was sitting across him up in the astronomy tower and luckily no one could hear them speak due to the marvellous wonder of the silencing spell.  
"I don't think I am. I need the information, and this is as good an idea as any," he answered him.  
"How do you even know I can do it?" Draco asked him with a slightly defiant edge.  
"You great families certainly have ways, obscure ones, highly secretive. I know you can contact your father."  
A slightly pained tone crept into his voice. "Maybe I can, ok. But even if, why should he give you the names of his fellows? Now that he is no longer with Voldemort doesn't mean he is on the 'good' side, either. You are not exactly popular with my father."  
"Your father is an opportunist. An ambitious one, but still. He dropped off into hiding as soon as Voldemort was gone, and when he was strong again stood by his side again. Now that Voldemort seems to be vulnerable, with his latest scheme blown and after his time in Azkaban, he decided to wait out who would win and switch sides accordingly. And if you tell him they were after your life, he might be in even less inclination to support Voldemort. That leaves him with the 'good' side. If he helps us, me, he can always claim to have redeemed himself and manage to come out of this with minimal damage."  
Draco just looked straight into Harry and swallowed hard. "Sadly, that fits my father's personality to the t. Cashing in on murder attempts on his son…"  
"You'll do it?"  
"I will, yeah," Draco pressed his hand. "But I'm not sure if it will work, or how long it might take."  
"Well, I'll just have to wait then, don't I?"  
"Yes, But you're still crazy. You can't even call that thing a plan. You might be sure of your abilities, but against the opposition we'll face…" Draco said.  
Harry pulled Draco down with him on the blanket, cuddling. "I can't just wait here in school until my end comes. I have to do something. Fulfil a destiny if you will. I don't know. It may not be good, it might make me worse than the enemy I fight, but if I – if we win, who'll care? We can have anything, do anything, and no one will be able stop us then. Isn't this something to fight for? A life of our own?" 


	16. Rifts

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Another chappie :) I just wished I had more free time to write g Enjoy, or flame. Whatever you feel like :D

**Chapter 16**

"It's been over two weeks now," Harry nagged, "You haven't heard _anything_ yet?"  
They sat together in the inner courtyard. They had plenty of space as most students were making sure they were where neither Draco nor Harry were; and it fitted them to at.  
Draco slightly sighed. "I have told you before," he whispered, "and will tell you again that it will take time. I have dropped a note in a secret location. As you so amply put 'how old Families do', and _he" _– they weren't using Lucius' name in public; it was still to dangerous- "hasn't contacted me yet through the proper channels. And I don't know when, or if, he will. You ask a lot, and you're still not that popular…"  
"It's just so bloody frustrating to wait," Harry looked up in frustration.  
"I know what would get you on other ideas," Draco acted coyly. With his right hand he gently grabbed Harry's chin and pulled his head down and passionately kissed him. When they broke their kiss, Harry smiled again.  
"I get your idea. Let's delve into this in a bit more private spot," a wicked smile spreading on Harry's face.

* * *

Hogwarts was, by and large, quite huge and there were many reclusive spots one could hide when one wanted to be left alone. Or, in this case, not completely alone. Harry brushed away a strand of hair out of Draco's face and smiled. Sitting here, high in one of the towers, looking out over the lake and catching the last rays of a waning sun, he felt something like peace. He had to admit that Draco was possibly the best that could have happened to him. It certainly was in the very recent time. Simply cuddling him in his arms was bliss; and for just this moment, all his sorrow, all his dark, hidden feelings seemed to be gone. Just like it should be, for a normal boy of his age. It was days like this when he wondered why it had to be him. But he also knew that it did not do to question destiny, or what you want to call this driving force of life.  
The last two weeks had been terrible on the one hand, and just as joyful on the other. The waiting for a word of Draco's father was nearly killing him with anxiety; and a cold, calculating dread he would have to change his plans. On the other hand, he spent almost every free minute with Draco, and a part of him didn't want this to end.  
Draco had changed him again, more subtly than the death of Sirius, surely, but it made him different than that day he left Privet Drive. The scheming, cold, ruthless Harry was still there, but now there was something else, too. Someone he had to protect; someone he loved. For everyone else, he was still cold, uncaring. And he really didn't care about the rest, honestly. For Draco, it was something else. Maybe he was just alive again inside when he was around Draco, he wasn't sure about that. He didn't seem to mind Harry's new personality; in fact he seemed to be quite drawn to it.  
And Draco was far from good, either. Not that he was the evil Dark Prince of Slytherin people always thought him to be. Sure, there was more darkness in him than normal. But then again, no one had really cared about the true Draco. He was a Malfoy, so why should anyone assume him to be any different than all the other Malfoys?  
No one would ever accuse Draco of being a do-gooder, but he had this pragmatism, this determination to do what had to be done; and the arrogance to believe he had control over his own life. An arrogance he was guilty of himself. But wasn't it something good to have?  
Harry had killed. And he knew he would do it again. He did not shy away from this. He simply realised that to get what he wanted, others had to suffer or die. And he would not rest until the Death Eaters had got what they deserved. In the not so far future, Voldemort would lie to his feet and beg for mercy, for his life. He would finally have his revenge. And he would kill if it was the only way to protect Draco and himself. _Does this make me evil?_ _Something worse than the things I fight?_ He left the thought unanswered, banishing it in the deep recesses of his mind.  
For now, he was just happy. Just this moment. Just this second…

* * *

As the sun finally set it started to get a bit too chilly for Draco's liking, so they walked down the tower and back into the main castle. Normally, they would spend the day and night learning, in the library, in some hidden spot, or duelling. His back was still slightly sore from their training session yesterday. But today was their day off, for the most part at least.  
"Come," Harry said and started walking in the general direction of the Gryffindor tower.  
"Ehm," Draco cleared his throat, "do you actually think this is a good idea?"  
"What?" Harry replied absent-mindedly.  
"Going to your common room?"  
"I'm allowed to bring a friend with me," Harry coolly smiled. "If they can, so can I. They won't do anything stupid."  
"I don't share your confidence." Draco brooded.  
"Would you prefer your common room?"  
"Ok," Draco chuckled at the thought of it. He could name a few people at the top of his head who would die from apoplexy on the spot if he and Harry were snogging in the Slytherin common room. "I get the picture. But why now? We could always go to one of our normal places."  
"It's my right, no less. I don't care about them. And when I want my boyfriend to be with me, he will."  
He made true of his promise. Just a few minutes later, Draco was reclining on the comfortable couch in front of the fireplace, his head propped up against Harry's chest. Some of the Gryffindors were simply shocked when he had stepped through the portrait hole behind Harry, but a glance from Harry had seemed to discourage them from doing anything stupid.  
Harry kept gently playing with Draco's hair and made some whispered jokes about the shocked faces. Draco thought he actually loved it.  
Then he heard the portrait hole open and a group of Gryffindors coming in, loudly chatting among themselves. He was just about to turn his face to look who they were, when a loud roar erupted from the new group and made eminently clear who that group was.  
"What is ferret face doing here!" Ron Weasley shouted, still clad in his Quidditch gear. He suddenly remembered. Today was Quidditch training for the Gryffindors. Harry didn't play anymore, though. He said he needed the time for something more useful; and the team, most prominently a certain Weasley, had told Harry he was no longer welcome.  
Draco felt Harry tense. He pushed Draco gently upward and stood up.  
"I am relaxing with my boyfriend here, Weasley," Harry replied with an icy tone. "None of your business."  
"I don't care what you think!" Ron's voice filled the room. "That disgusting ferret face has nothing to do here. He better be going before I throw him out."  
"You and what army?" Harry sneered. "Just go upstairs and hide away like a good little boy."  
Ron's face was now a very intriguing shade of deep purple. His blood pressure must take years off his lifetime… He took several large steps and was face to face with Harry, who hadn't flinched one bit. "Get that filth out of our common room," he spat in Harry's face.  
"He stays." Harry's voice was getting this dark, dangerous undertone. Draco felt the hairs on the back of his head stand up.  
"That bastard-" The loud slap of Harry's hand across Ron's face was like a thunderbolt. An ominous silence suddenly lay over the whole room and all eyes were set on Ron.  
Harry's voice now was outright malicious. "Apologize," he said into the silence. "I won't have you insult Draco any longer." Draco saw something then. He was sure no one else saw it as they were transfixed on Ron's reaction; it was just too subtle, but there was a slight…shiver of darkness around Harry's dark hair.  
"Fuck off, you-" Ron was about to complete the sentence, when Harry grabbed his throat and with all the power of his trained body slammed him into the wall behind Ron. His hand pressed hard. Ron only whimpered and tried to gasp for breath, but to no avail.  
"Apologize." When Harry spoke again it was like a wave of cold air ran through the common room. The sheer absence of feeling, of humanity could almost be grasped with one hand.  
Ron struggled but Harry seemed to be stronger.  
"Stupefy!" Hermione's voice cut through the tension and a blast hit Harry's back. Instead of simply slumping to ground unconsciously as he should have, he turned his head backwards. Draco was quicker as he turned around, and saw Hermione stand on the stairs to the girl's dorm, pointing her wand at Harry. She was slightly taken aback at Harry's reaction. She shook it off quickly though and a second "Stupefy!" roared through the common room, more powerful than before. It hit Harry right in the head; and this time, he went unconscious.  
Draco rushed to Harry's body lying on the ground. Ron, now released from Harry's grip, breathed heavily and murder was written on his face.  
Before anything worse could happen, the portrait hole swung open and enraged Professors McGonagall and Snape came rushing through.  
"Step back!" She commanded. "Severus, take him to Madame Pomfrey. I will handle this here!"  
Snape stepped next to Harry's body lying on the floor and looked at Draco. He simply looked up at Snape with fierce determination. Snape seemed to slightly sigh, and gestured to Draco that he should get Harry and follow him.

* * *

The first thing Harry saw as he opened his eyes was a very worried Draco."Where am I?" he whispered.  
Before he could be answered, a face came down on him and kissed him softly. When the lips withdrew, they opened up to speak. "Thanks for protecting my honour, oh noble knight," Draco said with a sweet smile on his face. "Oh, and you're in the Hospital Wing."  
Harry tried to get up, but his muscles ached terribly. "Ouch," he cried. "That has hurt."  
"Well, she hit you really hard," Draco whispered. "And even had to hit you twice…"  
Before he could answer, though, a stern voice came from the door to the room. "Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "your behaviour is inexcusable."  
"But-" Harry tried to protest.  
"No 'but's Mr. Potter," she scolded him. "If it was me, you'd be on your way home as soon as possible. As it is, I am here to inform you that you will not longer be living in the Gryffindor tower. Most of the students afraid of your…behaviour. The Headmaster wishes you to stay, though. So you will be placed in one of the older rooms in the southern tower to avoid further _accidents_. Your belongings have already been taken there."  
"But-"  
Silence, Potter," she snapped. "I'm not finished yet." She looked at him with glaring eyes. "You are still considered to be a member of Gryffindor House, and so earn, or lose, house points, remember that." She turned around and as she strode out said, "By the way, 50 points from Gryffindor for your attack. I hope you are satisfied." With that, she slammed the door.  
"Look at the bright side of it," Draco said sheepishly. "You'll have a single room now." 


	17. A Morning of Unpleasant Surprises

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Another one. Hope you enjoy. And to this slash-disliking guy: I can't say it often enough. Don't like it, don't read it :) About those complaining about the formatting... I do my best, but this software here is a bit limited in what it can do, so I just have to make do :)

**Chapter 17**

Draco felt the bed move beside him and looked over. Harry was finally waking up. Draco had been right, after all. The single room had plenty of advantages. After it had been properly cleaned, that is.

At first sight, it had been a dump; not cleaned in decades it seemed. Several house elves had been busy cleaning it that first time. The room itself lay at the top of one of the smaller southern towers and once had been a guest room for visitors, though the last visitor this room had seen would be safely dead by now. Even the portrait guarding its entrance was surprised to be used again. After some reassuring chit-chat, and the proper password, the ghostly woman floating in the portrait had given in and swung open for Harry and him. Following the rough form of the tower itself, there was a round common room with a fireplace and a dusted couch on the right hand side. To the left hand side, a small table with four chairs stood. The windows were hazy and even the midday sun had trouble burning through the dust and dirt on them.

Cobwebs were everywhere and finger deep dust was on almost every surface. Straight ahead, a small staircase led to the small bathroom and the bedroom. It was dominated by a large, dusted four-poster bed and the whole bedroom was ringed by windows, just as grimy as those below.

"Home sweet home," Draco had said with a wry smile. And truth to tell, after it had been properly and thoroughly cleaned and arranged to Harry's likings, it was rather nice. Not something Draco would have put up with at home, but for a school, it was acceptable. Harry had chided him for his snootiness, but naturally a Malfoy was above such things, as Draco had told him with dead seriousness before breaking out into a laughing fit.

And now, this early Saturday, he was lying side by side with Harry in the bed. It was strictly speaking not allowed, but so far, no one had complained. The warm, beautiful body cuddled next to him started to move again, and the morning light cast its first rays just over the blanket and in Harry's face. He turned his face away and a hoarse voice croaked "Blasted sun."

Draco suddenly saw something move around the bed and his head stiffened. A dark mist rose up from the floor, surrounding the bed. At first just a thin vapour of darkness but it quickly thickened until it had cut out almost any direct sun.

"Better," a pleased Harry mumbled beside him.

"Harry?" Draco prodded him.

"What?" the mumbled answer came.

"What the heck did you just do?" Draco asked in a curious tone.

"I did nothing," Harry rolled over and looked through sleepy eyes at him. "What you're talking about?"

"The light? Those shadows?" Draco sat up and pointed around the bed.

"What?" Harry looked at where Draco pointed and looked stunned.

"That shouldn't have happened," Harry said weakly. He slightly shook his head and the dark wall surrounding them thinned out until it had completely vanished.

Draco slightly inclined his head. "You should start talking, Potter," he crowded Harry. "You haven't explained a lot after the…forest incident, either. And this-" he waved his hand around him "-bears a stunning resemblance of your feat."

Harry looked at him for long seconds then just sighed. "I guess so," he nodded. "I just don't know what to make of it, you know? But I have to show you something first. Come," he said, his voice slowly sounding more like an awoken and he grabbed for his rimless glasses.

As Harry slowly climbed out of the bed, Draco was transfixed for a moment as he saw him stand there clothed just with his silken grey pyjama pants, his solid muscles flexed and moved under his skin.

"Draco?" Harry tore him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, sure," he shook his head and got out of bed himself, "coming."

Down in the small common room, Harry went over to his trunk and dug deep in it until he got up and had an old book in his hand. He came over to Draco and handed it to him.

"I bought it in that shop in Knockturn Alley," Harry said as he sat himself down in the couch. Draco couldn't hide his slight surprise that Harry had gone into the dark Alley. Though it shouldn't have surprised him, with all he knew now about him. "It started with this."

Draco looked more closely at the book. It was _really_ old. The paper had a brittle crispiness to it and was severely brown and almost unreadable on many pages. He scanned through several pages, reading for some minutes. When he finally looked over at Harry again, Draco looked puzzled.

"That's no real teaching book," Draco pointed at it, "it's a work on the mythology of even older times than the book was written at. Like the author took all the reports on this kind of magic and analysed it. And if I read it correctly, he was of the opinion that it's all humbug."

"I know," Harry answered weakly. "It's a really absorbing book, so I read it, and then I got curious and tried something." He took the book, skimmed through it, until he found what he seemed to be looking for. He turned it back to Draco and pointed at a text passage. "Try it," he simply said.

The passage was an instruction for some incantation of sorts. No wand though. He raised his left eyebrow, but read on. Everyone could do wandless magic, of course. But it was just too erratic, too emotional to be used in any way. That's what you have wands for; but this incantation was meant to work without a wand. He concentrated and tried to do as was written there, but nothing happened. He turned back to Harry and nodded. "Nothing. Just doesn't work."  
Harry simply reached out with his hand, turned his palm upward and seemed to be slightly concentrating. Suddenly a dark mist, much like the one around the bed before, formed above it. It thickened, morphed, and seemed to solidify into a shining black orb.

"That's what the incantation is for. A mere cantrip. I read it and tried it. At first, I just felt something strange but nothing happened. I had to concentrate really, really hard for it to appear. But now, now it is as easy as breathing…"

"That is really something new," Draco whistled. "Or really old, if you will. Certainly not something they teach you at Hogwarts." His mind wheeled until he remembered something. "Once," he went on, "some years ago, I had to read our family's history and there was this ancient witch – Liandra Mafey – who had been reported to have wielded something remotely like you did. 'Cursed with the Night and Shadows' as it was put. I just assumed it was some overly frightful chronicler, especially since she was called 'The Devourer', but now…?"

"When was this?" Harry asked interested.

"She died some twelve hundred years ago."

"I just can do it," Harry shrugged. "As long as it is useful to me, I don't care where it came from."

"It may be useful," Draco looked at him, "but it also can be something very dangerous. Remember your row with Ron?"

Harry's jaw clenched. "Yes, what about it?"

"When you had him pinned to the wall, there was this tiny aura of darkness around your head, like very small black flames…"

"I didn't-"

But before he could finish, a clicking sound came from one of the windows. Harry sprung up from the couch and went over to the source of the sound. Draco got up as well, and then saw his owl sitting outside the window. Harry opened it and the owl flew to Draco. It carried a small sheet of parchment and he took it off of the owl. Unrolling it, he sucked in a deep breath and looked at Harry.

"What is it?" Harry asked startled.

"My father," Draco replied with shaky voice. "He wants to see us. Tonight."

* * *

The office was a mess. Her desk overturned, shelves ripped from the walls, pieces of paper and records littering the floor wherever she stepped. 

"Who'd be so stupid to break in a police office?" Inspector Elizabeth Banish incredulously asked. She had to admit, in all her career, this was so far a first.

Phil, standing next to her, just shrugged. "I dunno. Whoever it was, was either insanely stupid, or really knew what he was doing. It's not like we're following an open-office policy around here."

Normally, she preferred to work from home at Saturday if she had to. She still clung to some figments of private life. Now she stood in the debris of her office. It would take days to get it back to its highly sophisticated chaos.

"Anything that would hint at who or why?" She asked into the room.

"There are signs of heightened activity around here," one of the investigators said from the other side of the room.

She and Phil walked over and took a look. When she scanned through the documents on the floor and those still in the drawers, she sucked in breath.

"What is it, Inspector?" the brown-haired investigator asked.

"Phil," she ignored the investigator and directly spoke to her assistant, "those are the Nelfayn documents. Look, whoever it was had pulled every single one from here."

"You do know where this train of thought of yours brings us?" Phil was wincing.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, suprised that she didn't think of it herself. "Either the killer, or someone very interested in this case." Her eyes got cold. "Death Eaters. They must have gotten wind of it by now." She pointed at the chaos in her office. "I would guess this was thought as some kind of diversion."  
"The killer," Phil said with his speculative tone, "would have to be an incredibly mentally challenged one to come looking what we might have on him. And from the works we saw, he isn't stupid. That leaves only one group really interested in the demise of Nalfayn, if we're right about the murder. Death Eaters, yes."

Elizabeth's head jerked up as if hit by a lightning and rushed over to a small painting lying on the floor. She pulled out her wand and weaved a quick pattern above it. The canvas quickly morphed into a small door. She opened it and a sigh of relief escaped her.

"At least they haven't found everything," she quickly scanned through the parchment rolls in her hand and put them back into the painting. Phil walked over to her and she leaned towards his ears.

"These are the documents about the…unusual magic we found," she whispered. "I thought they might be better of hidden, in case someone higher up came questioning."

"Well," Phil suddenly looked very dour. "You have forgotten one thing." He whispered back.

"What?" She looked at him puzzled.

"One thing that wasn't hidden there. The whole Potter matter."  
"Oh," she just said and looked like hit by a truck. She stood there for precious seconds in silence before she spoke again. "Given his past, he should be used to being hunted by Death Eaters by now. Nothing we can do. And if he truly is the killer," she cast a fierce glance at Phil, "if he is the killer, he deserves what he's got coming."

* * *

Harry had been antsy ever since the note from Lucius had arrived. It had been a piece of parchment with a highly complicated calligraphy; nothing written or intelligible. But Draco had assured him he could read it, and was from his father, indeed. 

Harry had stayed in his room for the rest of the day, contemplating the upcoming meeting. He was still slightly unsure about Lucius. But he was also of the firm belief it was the only way to get what he wanted.

The hours whizzed past like mere minutes. Harry waited patiently until McGonagall let them out for Hogsmeade. Draco and he stood out among the other students, both physically and by their dress. Harry wore a hand-tailored black suit of muggle style, and a long greatcoat over it. Draco had opted for a burgundy brocade jacket over a black silk shirt and black trousers under his own greatcoat. Making a rough calculation, he guessed he and Draco must have worn more expensive clothes than all the others combined. They were dressed to kill and Harry had an amused sneer on his face as he saw Ron stand over at the other side of the students with clenched fists and an irritated Hermione talking avidly to him.

When the time came, he walked out of Hogwarts with Draco next to him as casually as he could. Lucius seemed to have taken into account the Hogsmeade weekends, and Harry had to smile at it. At least it would give them an easy excuse to get out of the school. Now they only had to get out of Hogsmeade undetected. Draco and Harry sauntered through Hogsmeade like a lovestruck couple; not that it would have been a difficult thing to do. They looked into every shop, made pauses in cafés, and so made sure no one was following them. Someone really had to be quite crafty to have been undetected the whole time. As the night slowly came and the lights dimmed, Harry and Draco carefully left the main streets and slowly made for the forest. He even used his special abilities so that the darkness covered their departure.

Alone in the dark, they waited the last few minutes until it was time.

"Now what?" Harry asked.

"Give me your hand," Draco answered.

"Huh?" he answered bemused.

"Surprise," Draco chuckled. "It's a secret family lair, unplotable and father is the secret keeper of its location. But I know. And I can apparate us there."

Harry chocked and had a slightly shocked face. "Apparate? I thought Lucius had something prepared, a port key or the like."

"Well," Draco seemed to grow a few inch with pride. "It's not you alone who has some secrets." He laughed. "I had to learn it pretty early. Father said it was only natural for a Malfoy to be better than the rest and knowledgeable about such things; got me a private trainer. Should we go then?"

"Eh, yes," Harry answered, quickly getting his composure back. Who would have thought, he hid a little chuckle. They should really get rid of all those secrets they still may hold.

He grabbed Draco's hand and with a loud crack they were gone.


	18. Taking the Next Step

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling 

A/N: Found some time to write again. Hope it's enjoyable :)

**Chapter 18**

Harry blinked and steadied himself after the apparition. Looking around, he stood in a dark cavernous cave lit only by flickering candles in recessed parts of the wall. A chilling revelation was that it also seemed to be devoid any doors or openings.

He was just about to turn to Draco and ask where the heck they were, when he heard a harsh, cold chuckle from an unlit part of the cave.

"Mr. Potter," the familiar voice came from the hiding spot. "I never really believed you would actually show up here." A tall man stepped out of the darkness, but he didn't look like the Malfoy he knew. Instead of the long, blonde hair there was a patchy mop of greasy brown hair, his immaculate clothes had been replaced by filthy, tacky rags. His face was gaunt, worn out. Only the eyes gave him away - cold, calculating, scheming. "You have changed, indeed, Mr. Potter," he dryly observed.

"So have you," Harry nodded.

Lucius stepped a bit closer and looked over Harry's shoulder. "Draco," he said snidely. "That it would come down to this…" he pointed at him and Potter. "A disgrace for the family."

"Father, I…" Draco began speaking, but Harry cut him short.

"Watch your words, Lucius," Harry snapped icily.

"Awww," Lucius mocked. "Great Saint Potter protecting his love." He spat on the ground. "I should kill you were you stand!" his voice now without even the slightest traces of mockery or sarcasm.

"You could try to," Harry answered. "But you would find out that I have changed in more than one way," he smiled very thinly, "and besides, I doubt even my dead body would get Voldemort to embrace you again. He seems to be a bit touchy in the treachery department." Harry chuckled harshly and his face hardened. "Despite what I know about you, even Lucius Malfoy wouldn't go back to the one who nearly had his only child murdered."

Lucius just looked at him for long seconds. And the seconds stretched into minutes without a word spoken.

Finally, Lucius spoke again, with an unknown, well of warmth in his voice. Almost as he truly had feelings in him, somewhere. "No, I wouldn't. You are right. I thought Draco would have been safe. **Should** have been safe." His eyes connected with Draco's. "I seem to have…miscalculated this a bit." His head swivelled back to Harry. "But all that does not explain why you of all people wanted to see me. Speak!"

"I want – need – a list of all the Death-Eaters you know, and you must know many." Harry simply stated.

"You are insane!" Lucius cried out. "Why should **I**, do something even remotely like that!"

Harry stayed calm, like the eye of a hurricane. "Because you need me." His eyes bore into Lucius'. "You can't, or don't want to, go back to our dear Dark Lord. That'll be suicide. And you must be pretty convinced that he will not win; or not convinced enough he'll make it. But after the Ministry raid, you're still a traitor, an enemy of the society, an outcast. You will never be able to take your old place in it. But what if I, the Boy Who Lived, 'Saint Potter', were to tell everyone that you helped defeat Voldemort? That you changed and repent? That would make a big impact."

Lucius turned around, and stormed to the other side of the cave. "And why should they believe you?"

"Because I am the 'good guy' in this drama," Harry said in a mocking voice of a little boy. "People believe me. It's that simple."

"What if I won't change? Cling to my old views?"

"That is your problem, not mine. I couldn't care less, just as long as you give me the information I need and keep your ideas to yourself. Pretend, for Merlin's sake. Just be useful to me."

Lucius started pacing up and down the cave, muttering all the time while his eyes were flinging back and fro in their holes. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Harry again.

"I don't know what, or how, you have become what you are now. But you have my…respect." He turned towards Draco. "Son," he said," I must correct myself." He swallowed. "Maybe you're not as shameful to the family as I have thought."

Turning back to Harry, he looked at him like a scientist would look at a very interesting sample. "You are sure you're no Malfoy? With such a cold, ruthless vein? The potential…"

He took out a parchment, and started scribbling on it. It took several minutes and then he handed it to Potter. "Take it and do what you must with it."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy," he slightly bowed. "Maybe we will have to re-evaluate our relationship after this war."

"Now go," Lucius said. "Until we meet again…" The candles flickered out and Harry only felt the sudden twist of apparition and they were back in the forest.

* * *

The next days, Draco saw slight changes in Harry. He dived even deeper into work, more focused than ever. He was there with Harry, stayed with him, learned with him. The closer the weekend came, the more concentrated Harry got.

"You don't have to do it, you know?" Draco whispered to Harry Saturday afternoon. His head lay on Harry's slightly breast, hearing his heart calmly beat.

"We've been over it before," Harry said with a soft, hushing voice. "I must do it. This all has to end, one way or another. And better now, with me in control, than some time outside my control."

Draco's body snuggled closer to Harry. "I know," he sighed. "I know. Still, I could have wished for a more…Malfoyian way, couldn't I?"

"You mean weaselling out of harm's way and pin it on someone else?" Harry chuckled.

Draco managed to seem indignant over it. "It worked very well in the past," he sniffed, "as you had many chances to observe first-hand. Just because you can't see the beauty of it…" Draco held the indignant expression for at least two m ore seconds, before he burst out into laughter. "Let's just stay here for a while longer, ok?" Draco said after he regained his breath.

"Sure," Harry purred and hugged Draco. "A few minutes can't hurt…"

It was late afternoon time when they finally crawled out of bed.

Harry dressed in tight, but comfortable black trousers, a tight-fitting turtle-neck and an equally black great coat.

"I still wished I could come with you," Draco said. "It's just too dangerous."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I don't want to bring you into even more danger right now. And you're needed here."

"Still doesn't mean I have to like it," he pouted.

"You'll survive," Harry bowed down and kissed him slightly on the cheek. "When someone asks you know what you say?" Harry asked him.

"Yes," he nodded. "You're not feeling well and stayed in bed. Must be the weather, really. The cold –"

Harry snickered. "I guess they'll buy into it. You have a very convincing way with words."

"Just don't get caught," Draco finally said.

"I won't," Harry smiled.

Draco took a few steps back and watched Harry. Slowly at first, blackness crept from Harry's body, engulfed him, faster, quicker, thicker. The pillar of blackness moved and began to swirl, away from Draco, towards the wall. It swirled faster and suddenly disappeared.

"At least it has style," Draco whispered. Now he just had to pretend to be calm and not tearing himself apart with worry.

* * *

When Harry stepped out of the shadows, he was deep within an old forest, looking at an old country house with a nice clean garden in front of it. The sun was already low in the sky and the evening drew inevitably closer. He pulled in the shadows a bit closer and studied the house. _No need to rush things._ He saw people leave and enter the house, and ghostly shadows move inside the house through the curtains. All in all, it looked like any other country house. Except that this one tingled with magic. Harry could feel several wards and alarm spells around it; someone really cared for his privacy. He loved a challenge.

As the night slowly came, he saw lights go on in several rooms. He continued observing for several minutes until he was reasonably sure the target was alone in his home.

It was time to strike.

He slowly moved out from his hiding spot in the woods. His mind concentrated, reached out for the house and soon he felt a cold creep up his spine and his vision blurred. When it cleared again, he stood deep within the shadows in a hidden corner of the house, his wand ready.

He called the shadows around him closer in and moved. The lights around him dimmed, sounds were muffled. It felt as if he was the shadows…

Suddenly a door creaked open a few meters ahead to his left and light poured out. Pain stabbed through his eyes and he had to blink. The shadows reacted, rushing forward as if on their own, closing out the light that had hurt him so much.

"What the…," a balding man in his late forties cried out. His arm shot to his waist, fiddling with a wand. Despite his age, he still had reactions like a cobra. Before Harry knew it, the wand was in the man's hand. He just heard "Stupefy!" and felt a sudden pang as a red bolt of magic energy crashed through the shadows in him. But like before, it didn't stop him.

Harry reacted quickly, and took advantage of the man's disbelief at his spell's failure. "Avada Kedavra!" his voice almost hissed. As he saw the man slump lifeless to the ground, Harry sighed.

That should not have happened, he thought. Next time this should run smoother.

He moved closer to the body and got on his knees. He ripped of the man's sleeves to show everyone who would see him that way the Dark Mark.

Before he left, a wicked grin spread on his face. He took his wand, and quickly drew something in the air. When he was finished, he stepped back and smiled. The tell-tale skull with snake of the Death Eater flowed above the body, made of strings of violet so dark they were almost black in their centre. And in the centre of that skull, a large axe had split it.

* * *

He called to his shadows and stepped out of here.

"Draco?" Harry called into his room. "Are you there? I don't want to play hide and seek…"

They had agreed to meet here when he was back. And Draco was no one to ignore such arrangements.

Maybe he got something to eat?

Harry waited.

But as he still wasn't there twenty minutes later, he started to get worried. He got up and nervously started pacing before the fireplace like a tiger in his cage.

As he did so, his eyes fell on a little piece of parchment on the small tray near the portrait hole. He walked over and picked it up. As he read it, his eyes grew large and his heart started thumping.

It read,

"Draco, meet me at the Shrieking Shack tonight at 8. Surprise for you."

The note slipped out of his fingers and Harry ripped open the portrait and sprinted down the stair case.

It was Harry's own handwriting…


	19. A Lost Gamble

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: another one, the end is drawing slowly nearer... :)

**Chapter 19**

Harry raced down the stairs as fast as he could. He basically flew through corridors, slamming other students coming home from their Hogsmeade weekend out of his way, ignoring their shouts and insults. He didn't care. His mind was so fixated on Draco and this letter; he didn't actually see Professor Snape as he ran into him at full speed.

"Potter!" Snape hissed. "Bloody look before you run around like a headless chicken in school corridors."

Harry shook his head and looked over Snape's shoulder. He was right in front of the main gate – and he had to get through it.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry managed to say with an almost normal voice. "I forgot something in Hogsmeade, I wanted to get it," he lied. And from the sneer that appeared on Snape's face, he knew it, too.

"For someone who's supposedly too ill to go to Hogsmeade, this must be a miracle." He looked Harry into the eyes. "Don't lie to me, Potter."  
"I just need to get out, Professor," he said, fighting the rising anger inside him.

"It's too late anyways, Potter," he answered him. "I'm just waiting for the last students to return. No new students out. Simple, isn't it? One would suspect you'd read the school rules…"

"I _must_ get out!" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

"No, Potter!" Snape raised his voice. "And now go, before I decide to report this to the Headmaster. Don't make me test my patience even further."

Harry stood there, shivering with anger. But he couldn't attack Snape. He didn't care about being kicked out of school for it, but the Headmaster and all the other teachers would be after him. Not the best way to get quickly out of the school. He could tell him, Harry knew that somewhere inside him; but it would also reveal things he didn't want to be revealed, especially not to Snape of all persons.

"Yeah," he finally said, "I'll go."

Harry turned around and raced into the main castle again. He still knew _alternative_ known ways out of the school.

Then he stopped dead in his tracks and smacked himself. He didn't have to use any doors or secret passages. Not now, with his newfound abilities. He chided himself that he had forgotten. But when he read that letter, the implication it meant sunk in, he sort of lost it; he had acted on reflexes, old reflexes, and had just run.

Now he breathed heavily and quickly lost himself into an empty corridor. He looked behind him and around, before he drew the shadows closer.

* * *

He stepped out of the shadows right inside the Shrieking Shack in a dark corner. He was about to look around when he heard someone scream. Not someone, he corrected himself. Draco!

He took his wand and rushed to the source of the scream. It seemed to come from upstairs, in some of the rooms. He turned around a corner where he thought he heard Draco scream, when –

"Incarcerous!" He heard a shrill voice shout from behind him. Before he could turn around, he was hit by thick chains that quickly wrapped around him, immobilising him completely. Harry tried to stand, but soon was toppled by the massive weight of the chains.

He felt himself lifted in the air and float across the corridor. When the hovering spell ended, he fell down hard on the floor. He felt something besides him and turned his head as good as he could. There was Draco, barely conscious.

"Harry…" he whispered.

"Well, well, well," an arrogant voice pierced through his anger and shock. "Patience actually pays off." He managed to turn his head in the direction of the voice and there she was, in all her magnificent glory – Bellatrix Lestrange. She was still gaunt, but not quite as much as last time. And she smiled, very coldly.

"Welcome to this little meeting," she continued conversationally. Harry tried to get himself free, even tried to call to the shadows, but for some strange reason he couldn't. He felt them, alright, but whenever he tried to touch, to feel them, they shrunk back. Just as if they were alive. Waiting for something. Judging him.

"Potter, I don't think wiggling will get you free." His concentration was torn back to Bellatrix as she chuckled. "You know, the Dark Lord will be quite happy when I bring him not only the traitor's son, but also his _lover_," she spat on the ground, "Harry Potter."

"I will kill you!" Harry shouted.

"Oh, I really doubt it." She pointed her wand at him. "Crucio!" she said almost playfully.

The pain was unbearable. It raced through his body, tearing, ripping at it. His body spasmed, or at least tried to, as he couldn't move inside his chains.

"But before we go to the Dark Lord, I will play a little with you. And you know how good I'm at this…" She laughed. And he was again hit by this intense pain. This time, though, something inside him, deep, deep down, started moving, slowly, very slowly.

"It was all too easy," she smiled at him. "Of course, my real target was this scum," she pointed at Draco, "but then I learned of this relationship with you, Potter. And I thought to myself, 'you could use that, Bella'. And I did.

"I don't know where you went today, Potter, but I will find out, of course. My contacts in the school told me that the Malfoy boy was alone and you were 'ill'. But for someone ill, you were neither to be found in the hospital wing, or in your room." She laughed as Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You really should close your windows to your little love nest. An oversight, I'm sure. Then I just had to write that little letter in your handwriting and have it sent to Malfoy. Quite easy, when you have someone on the inside. Then the scum came, and I waited. And you came even quicker than I had hoped. A little gamble once in a while is really worth it.

"And when you came, you were too stupid or too preoccupied with your fears for your little loved one that you walked right into it." She laughed again. "How easily ran into the trap…" she shook her head. And such a simple one. Just a few manipulations and the sounds were coming from somewhere else. Anyway, where was I?" She cleared her throat. "Oh, yes. Crucio!"

He tried to, he really did. But he couldn't stop himself. He screamed at the top of his lungs. The feeling inside him grew stronger, slowly, slowly.

"Now, tell me," Bellatrix asked him suavely, "where have you been? And what happened to Erad, hm? The poor Lieutenant's notes weren't all that clear."  
Harry said nothing and just stared at her.

"The heroic type, aren't you?"

He readied himself for new pain, but this time it wasn't him to scream. It was Draco. He seemed to be weak, very weak and his scream was only a shallow shadow of a scream.

Harry's vision blurred as darkness waved through it. Deep within him, a powerful feeling crawled out of its cage, creeping ever so slowly.

"He seems a little weak, isn't he?" Another scream of agony. "The Longbottoms took some more before they broke."

And Draco cried again, weaker. And another one.

"Harry, help me…" he managed to whisper before he was cut short by another agonising attack.

The thing inside him moved quicker, close to the surface of his consciousness, ripping at his mind.

"Harry!" Draco cried out with the last fervour he had in him.

It had been enough for Harry. He felt himself give in to whatever was inside him. The barriers crumbled and this…something took control. Had Bellatrix watched him, she would have been shocked. As it is, she watched Draco twist in agony, laughing at his love.

With a shriek so strange, so otherworldly, Harry's whole body transformed, morphed. It seemed to darken from within, to wither. Claws of shadowy darkness formed, his face became a mask feral rage, shot through with darkness.

His new body flowed through the chains as if they were nothing. His hand struck Bellatrix's chest from the side and his hand wasn't stopped by it. It flowed through her chest until he found what he was looking for. His hand pressed down on her heart, crushing it. With a terrible scream, far worse than anything he heard before, she crumbled to the ground.

But Harry didn't stop. Couldn't stop. With a feral scream he launched himself at the twisting body. His shadowy claws ripped at her; blood was everywhere.

"Harry!" a weak sound penetrated through him.

Draco! He stopped, turning around. Draco was still lying on the ground, his eyes pleading to Harry.

He turned towards Draco, grabbing him, clutching him to his body and let the darkness engulf them both.

With Draco still clutched tightly to him, he stepped out of the darkness in his living room. As he laid Draco down on his bed, he felt the world around him blur and start to loose definition. The last thing he felt was himself falling to the ground.


	20. Decisions and Friendships

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Another one, I hope you like it. Hadn't had as much time as I like in the last few weeks... But it is slowly nearing the end of it... :D

**Chapter 20**

Harry's eyes flickered open and light assaulted his sensitive eyes.

"Where-" his voice croaked. He heard some shuffling sounds near him and then a delighted female voice. He felt a slight pain on his forehead, and as his hand touched that particular spot, he felt a tape. _A wound –but how?_

"You're awake," the voice said. "Finally, it was about time, boy." His eyes slowly adjusted to the light and he made out a large black blob, most probably a person.

"I was about to get worried," the woman went on. "After nearly a week…" The voice started to sound familiar; too familiar, as if he had heard it too many times in the past. He looked around further, and his surrounding started to get some definition in his vision. Several beds, hushed voices, the sounds of potions and medicine – The hospital wing; and Madame Pomfrey.

_But how?_

"Harry!" he heard a new voice cry out. _Draco! _Before he knew it, he was bear-hugged by his boyfriend.

"Mr. Malfoy, he just woke up. Leave him some air, or he'll be out again right away," Madame Pomfrey admonished him.

Draco let go and Harry could finally look him into the eyes. He saw joy, relief, and also some concern.

"I'm alright," Harry managed to say, with his vocal cords still a bit rusty. He grabbed Draco's head with his left hand and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. It felt so good, so alive. Harry heard, or rather felt, a deep growl, almost like that of a tiger, growing stronger; and to his astonishment it came from him. Draco seemed to hear it, too, and tried to break the kiss, but Harry pulled him with more strength, even more passionate.

When he broke the kiss, both had to catch their breath first, then Harry mouthed "What happened?" to Draco.

"Later," a stunned Draco whispered in answer. Harry saw him get up and walk to Madame Pomfrey. He spoke with her for a bit and then came back, finally smiling from side to side.

"She said I can take you with me, as long as you take it easy."

He nodded and tried to get out of bed. His legs felt a bit shaky at first, but he managed to stay on his feet. He dressed in the clothes lying next to his bed and walked out of the wing, supported by Draco.

Harry had to chuckle as he remembered the day when he brought Draco here, supported by him. _How the times change…_

* * *

As he sat down on the couch in his room, he looked at Draco, who was just sitting down next to him. "Now," his voice was getting back to normal levels, luckily, "what happened? The last thing I remember is losing consciousness in the bed room." His face got a serious expression. "You haven't told anyone what happened?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I haven't." He sighed. "I woke up in the morning after the day when _it_ had happened and you brought us back after whatever you did to Lestrange. You were lying on the floor, blood everywhere. At first, I thought you were hurt, but you seemed fine. You didn't react to me in any way, as if you were dead, though you still had a pulse and breathed. I quickly cleaned up, removed all blood and evidence, and then dragged you over to the stairs and down." He looked a bit guilty by now. "I knew this wasn't normal and I had to get you to the hospital. It just had to be believable. So I…" His voice creaked for a second, "I dragged you to the last stairs, and dropped you."

Harry touched his forehead again.

"Yes, that was me," he managed to look guilty while grinning sheepishly. "I then called the professors and told you had a dizzy spell. They easily believed me, after all you've been working too hard for the last weeks and most knew it. So I waited until you would wake up again…"

"Thanks," Harry replied, rubbing his forehead again and smiled. "I think."

"Sorry," Draco whispered.

"It's all right," Harry groped Draco's hand. "Better than telling the truth, ey?" Harry snickered. "Is there anything in the news? About this?"  
"Well," Draco cleared his throat, "they found the Death Eater you went after soon enough, but they sold it as some sort of infighting between them. Quickly vanished from the news. But about this…affair in the Shrieking Shack nothing has yet surfaced anywhere. Most likely because it's not really a major vacation spot…"  
"Infighting…" Harry chuckled. "I will give them infighting."  
"You're still going to do it, are you?" Draco looked a little sad.

"I started it, and by Merlin, I will finish it," Harry answered him with deep conviction.

"But what happens if, if something like in the Shrieking Shack happens again?"

Harry took Draco's face in his hands. "It won't. I think. You were the trigger. Something in me couldn't see you suffer any more. And then it happened."

"A 'something' like in the ward? Still chills my blood, Harry. You were so inhuman, so gone. I was afraid I lost you…"

"Hush," Harry cooed. "It won't. And now I guess it would be best to go to bed, wouldn't it?" Harry snickered and heaved himself up from the couch.

* * *

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall cried out, "you can't be serious about this! It is insane!" She was pacing furiously up and down before Dumbledore's desk, while he just sat there and eyed her coolly.

"We've been over this before, Minerva," he replied from his comfortable chair. "If we are to win this war, we have to accept certain facts and embrace them."

"Like the fact that your pet student completely lost it?"

"That is not entirely fair, and you know it."

"Fair?" She cried out again. She pointed at the Daily Prophet on the desk, showing the site of the so-called infight between Death Eaters. "You know it, and I know it that it was him!" Her head whipped around and faced Dumbledore. "And that mess in the Shrieking Shack you've yet to reveal to the public? That too!" she shot at him.

"I don't deny that it was most likely him. But I don't see a reason to intervene." He slowly got up and walked to the window overlooking the castle. "As I told you before, sometimes terrible measures have to be taken to win."

"And make us no better than those we fight? That's not winning."

"I take it either way," he answered with the cool and level voice so few ever heard. "When the time comes, soon I think, we will reveal the death of Lestrange. It should have some beneficial effect. And until that, you will leave Potter alone. He still has to fulfil his destiny. And after that, he is no longer needed. Then we can deal with it in an efficient way."

McGonagal snorted and looked away from him, her face full of disgust. "One day, Albus," she said gently, "one day you will face all the demons you let out. One day your little schemes will turn back on you. And by Merlin, I hope I'm not around."

"Great men have always taken great risks. In the end it always pays out."

"Do you listen to yourself sometimes?" She snorted again. "How much you changed, Albus. Meddling with things you shouldn't have. Unearthing powers that should have best been left lost in the mist of time." She sighed and finally looked him in the eyes again, with sadness as deep as the ocean. "What have you done, Albus?" She closed her eyes and whispered, "What have you done…"

_

* * *

The Skull Phantom strikes again._

_Today, sources within the Ministry of Magic leaked proof of yet another murder case which is consistent with the so-called Skull Phantom cases. It has been the twelfth murder in the last 7 weeks. The victim, Charles Leytham, had been accused of being a follower of He Who Must Not Be Named in the last war, but was acquitted under still dubious circumstances. _

_The police and Ministry lack a lead. The only thing known is that the murderer attacks (alleged) Death Eaters and leaves a floating skull, not quite unlike the Dark Mark, behind. _

_Sparked by the shocking discovery of the murder of Bellatrix Lestrange three days ago (we reported), the attacks by Death Eaters have intensified by at least 130 according to Minister Weasley. Weasley expressed his unflinching willingness to bring down the Death Eaters and feels confident that this last wave of attacks are the death throes, a result of the newly introduced security measurements. Mr. Weasley continued further that would only be a matter of time, until…_

Elizabeth slammed the paper down on her desk with a disgusted look on her face. "Remember Weasley?" she asked her assistant. "A nice, friendly fellow, though not ambitious. Then he gets the Ministry slapped onto him, and now look..." She snorted. "He's a quick learner, I have to give him that. Fully adapting to politi-speak, he is. They bloody know that we're not anywhere close of finishing this whole mess, and he's telling all world that it is only 'a matter of time'."

"May I remind you," Phil answered her, "that we have been reassigned, Liz?"

"Come on," she flung her arms up in exasperation, "you know that was just a political move. Ever since that, the whole investigation has been completely in the hands of the Minister's office. Only his 'trusted friends' are doing anything. And I bet Dumbledore is behind it all. No way Weasley's that clever."  
"Whatever," Phil sighed, "but we can't do anything about it. If we had only got a slap on the wrist before all this, now the almighty Staff of Merlin will strike us down if we do our own private investigation…"

"But we can't let them get away with it!" she cried out.

"Even if, Liz, we don't know where this killer will strike again, nor how to prove it is indeed Potter."

"I will have to think of something…" she whispered and turned her chair towards the window, thinking.


	21. A Foiled Plan

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: the end draws nearer... :)

**Chapter 21**

To the untrained eye the house looked like an ancient, quirky tree, its branches laden heavy with snow. Elizabeth stepped close to the 'door', a wooden arc of roots and knocked. For a moment nothing happened. Then she heard someone mutter and seconds the door creaked open and an ancient wizard looked out at her.

"What on earth-" he snapped then stopped as he recognised the Inspector. "Oh, you!" He opened the door wider and waved her in. "Come on in! It has been some time. What brings you here?"

"Thank you, Master Gurant," she replied. The inside of the house looked just as ancient and wrinkled as the wizard. Books and mysterious object covered every surface and the smell of parchment and old books lie in the air. "I came here because of that ancient, well, dark magic. You remember?"

"Oh yes, yes," he said. He walked over to a small fireplace and sat down in a deep and plush armchair and pointed at the one opposite to him for her to sit down. "I do remember; very interesting matter, yes."  
I need your help," she said, "if you can help, that is, but I have a question first." She paused for a split second. "Has there been anyone else asking you about this kind of magic? From the ministry? Or someone else?"  
Master Gurant's forehead wrinkled in deep thought and after several seconds he looked at her again. "No," he shook his head. "Not one, apart from you of course."

"Figures," she muttered, then cleared her voice. "Anyway, what I need to know is: Is there a way to detect it? It's usage, or where it is used?"

Gurant's forehead wrinkled again and stayed that way for several minutes, then he suddenly sprang out of his armchair with an agility that seemed to belie his age and dove into one of the ubiquitous mountains of books. He kept muttering things, but she didn't understand what he said or what it meant. After nearly twenty minutes he let out a triumphant shout and quickly strode over to the fireplace with a book in his hand that looked like it was older than Merlin himself.

"I haven't tried this, mind you," he said apologetically, "but there's this spell here, that was used in battle against a Shadow Lady of old myth, Mefuy, Mafey, or something. Very complicated spell, very expensive ingredients. But if it really works, it should detect any magic of that kind within a limited area."

Elizabeth carefully took the book and read the spell. The writing was so ancient, she barely could decipher it. With the help of Gurant, she transcribed it into a more readable form on a simple parchment.

"Mind if I ask you why you need it?" Gurant looked at her curiously.

"No," she smiled. "Not at all. I am about to go hunting. And it is difficult to hunt if you don't know where the prey is."  
"Young Inspector," the ancient wizard said with more than just a twang of sorrow in his voice. "I advise you to be very, very careful. If all the myths are true, you may not want to go hunting for something like that."

"If I won't do it, no one will. Justice has to be served." She almost shone with conviction.

"Sometimes," Gurant whispered, "justice is bought at too high a price. I wouldn't want you to die for it."

* * *

_Several weeks later…_

Harry stepped out of the shadows into a large round room, stairs running up the wall to the left of him, and a corridor left the room to his right. All was dark, but not to Harry's eyes. Except the sounds of the wind outside he didn't hear anything.

He silently walked into the room, towards the shadows keeping around him. He knew that his victim was sleeping in his bedroom, down the corridor. He reached the corridor and carefully entered it.

"Lumos!" someone whispered to his left and suddenly he was struck by harsh light. Shrieking, he backed away.

"Mr. Potter," a female voice said, "you are under arrest."

Harry was stunned for a moment and so it took him a moment to fully understand what was said. Instinctively, he had called forth more darkness, blotting out the feeble light from the wand. He moved forward again, and in the room to his left, from where the light came, a woman and a young man stood. He remembered her, but it has been weeks…

"Inspector Banish," he simply stated. His voice was not human anymore, it was something – else. Dark, ominous, coming from everywhere around them. He saw both humans shiver slightly and he chuckled. "Leave, while you still can."  
He let the darkness down a bit, so she could see, or more likely not see, him. She breathed in heavily, but did not waver. When she spoke, her voice still managed to hold conviction. "You are under arrest for breaking and entering, multiple murder, and torture. It took me a while, but I got you. I will not let you kill another human being, as guilty as he may be."

Harry laughed in his unearthly voice. "And what makes you think you can stop me?"

"I found you," she answered. "I can stop you." Her voice never hesitated.

"A stunning feat, I give you that," he bowed his head, "but I will not let you stop me. I have a destiny to fulfil. If you do not leave, you leave me no choice."

"You would kill me? An innocent?"  
"I would weep, of course, but I do what must be done. There is nothing you can do to stop me."

"You will have nowhere to go, no one to turn to after you leave. You can kill me now, sure. But I made sure the information reaches people. They will know and you can no longer pretend to be Saint Potter."

"I think you underestimate me, Inspector," his harsh voice lashed out at her. "I can go to places you have never seen and you will never find me. You won't keep me from my destiny."  
"But what about Mr. Malfoy?" she asked slyly.

Harry didn't really move. He didn't walk. His body dissolved into a cloud of darkness and suddenly reformed into Harry just inches from the Inspector's face.

"If you mention him one more time, I will rip you apart and feast on your soul!" He hissed, and his voice seemed to lose even more humanity as he spoke. The Inspector was now truly startled and took a few steps back, shaking heavily. The darkness around him started wavering, shivering, and coming closer. "What saves you is him, his love and that he believes in me. He's my anchor to humanity. If you take that away or threaten him, you will die."

A sound from behind him made him turn. The intended victim seemed to have woken up over their struggle. He was reported to have a very deep sleep - sadly, not deep enough. The mid-aged man looked truly shocked at the clouds of darkness in his house. He had his wand in the left hand and was raising it.

Harry extended his right arm absentmindedly, which turned into an amorphous, black tentacle that raced for the victim. It struck his chest dead-centre. His high-pitched screams resonated through the floor and walls and then it was over. The lifeless husk of a man slumped to the ground, all life sucked out of him.

"Where were we?" Harry said to no one in particular, and then his face turned, no, flowed around and stared at the Inspector. "Ah, you. You see what I can do. Just stay silent and run away now. It would be the best for you. And remember, I can always find you."

The shadows withdrew, folding around him and he prepared to leave. He could still kill her, he knew it. But something still shied away from it, despite his tough talk. He couldn't go back, or rather stay, at Hogwarts, but he no longer needed to, anyway; there are a million places where he could hide, and do so comfortably. While he slowly left, the Inspector watched him with a stunned expression. So brave, and yet so out of her depth…

"Avada Kedavra!" someone shouted. His senses felt the green bolt approach and told his mind to react. It was pure and raw instinct; he dissolved into nothingness and only felt a slight tingle as the bolt slashed through the place his body was microseconds ago.

"Potter!" A voice terribly familiar hissed. He looked at the source and there he was, in all his glory, Voldemort, Lord of the Death Eaters and currently slightly irate.


	22. All's well

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling 

A/N: Finally... THis is the end, the last chapter of this story. I wanted to finish it before the next book, and so I did :)  
Though I had wanted to do some things differently, the real life issues of diploma thesises and stuff had some influence as well g  
I hope you'll like it, and maybe there'll be a sequel. The door, at least, is wide open for it g

**Chapter 22**

A voice emerged from the darkness that has been Harry Potter a few microseconds ago.

"Go!" it hiss-snapped at the inspector and her assistant. Killing her was pointless, and the business with the Dark Lord was his and his alone. Both seemed to have perfect reflexes and the crack of people apparating could be heard.

The darkness and shadows folded in on himself once more to form a smiling Harry Potter. Only a few stray beams of moonlight illuminated his face.

"Voldemort," he said levelly. Despite looking almost human again, his voice was anything but human, a ghostly, rasping voice, oozing darkness with every syllable. "I didn't expect this meeting so early. I had other plans…"

Voldemort was furious, yet stayed put for the moment, but his eyes shot daggers.

"I couldn't believe that it has been you all this weeks, all this people, despite rumors my faithful followers reported. Yet here you are, the murderer of yet another Great Man."

Harry looked at the body to his feet. "Yes, yes," he chuckled. "Such a great man. And he died oh so valiantly. He got what he deserved; died as a tool. Mine, this time."

"The others died without knowing, without a chance. But here you were stopped. By a mere inspector!" Voldemort laughed harshly. "He contacted me before he went in. And now I'm here to end this, once and for all."

"I was about to say the same," Harry smiled again. "I had planned on thinning your Death Eaters out more, so you would face your death alone, but I guess one cannot have everything one wants." He shrugged. "Now, where were we?" Harry looked as if he was thinking for a second or two, before continuing. "Ah, yes!"

His hand snapped forward, a ball of black flames erupted from his palm and raced forward, but it only hit the wall behind where Voldemort stood seconds before, shattering it with a terrible sound.

"A great deal you have learnt, young Potter," Voldemort's voice echoed through the house. "But it won't be enough. I killed greater wizards than you, Potter."

Harry felt something, something strange, his senses tingling. He took it as a warning and lunged for the wall and shadow stepped away. When he stepped out of the shadows in the large round hall, he only heard the walls crush in where he stood before.

"Yes, I learnt. And I know I learnt more than you ever could hope to understand. This magic is not yours to understand. And it must hurt you; oh it must hurt you that someone is more powerful than you!" Harry shouted in his dark, deep voice, sending tremors through the floor.

"Lumos!" Voldemort cried out from his hiding place, and it stabbed Harry right in the chest. The scream that followed was nothing from this world; raw rage and agony erupted from Harry, his mind reacting on his own. A circular wall of darkness snapped into existence, racing out from his position, emerging the house and everything. Wherever it met stone, wood or other physical objects, it bent them, ripped at them, tearing them to molecular pieces.

In his raged condition, Harry almost missed the pained shriek of Voldemort, but from the sound of it, he managed to apparate.

Deep inside him, so deep no one ever looked, a force crashed at gates, so forcefully, so powerfully, they finally gave way. It slammed into Harry, flowed into him, howling in his mind. He slumped to his knees, almost passing out.

For minutes he simply kneeled there and realized that the true Harry Potter was forever changed, forever lost to him. Whatever he was now, he was no mere mortal. The force and magic that had powered him before had risen, finally, and consumed him almost completely. But not quite, he sensed. There still was 'him' inside… That was what drove so many of the former users of this form of magic mad, transformed and killed them after they did their deeds, a corner of his newly changed mind told him.

Finally, he rose. Any bystander would have thrown themselves at the floor, at the sight of the creature that rose where the near-human stood before. He no longer used darkness; he was it. His body flowed and morphed, sheets of shadows and darkness billowing around him, licking with dark flames.

The floor steamed and hissed when his feet touched ground. "Come out," he shouted, "come out and die like a man!"

Suddenly, he heard several cracks around him. His senses whipped at the nearest location, and he almost felt it before he saw it. Death Eaters, scores of them. When they had appeared, they had an arrogant sneer on their face; looking forward to help their Master. When they saw what they faced, shock replaced it. Three apparated away outright, seemingly overcome by self-preservation.

"To afraid to do come yourself?" He mocked Voldemort. He laughed; and as he did so, the walls reverberated his laughter. He flowed towards the nearest Death Eater in the blink of an eye, his hand launching at his chest and ripping something dark, ghostly out of it. Like a puppet without strings, he fell to the ground. He bellowed with laughter. Before anyone could react, four more Death Eaters lay dead on the floor.

"Is that all you can muster? Is that all you have?" he screamed before he drove shadowy fangs into the neck of another Death Eater. The screams ended momentarily.

"Lumos!" several others cried out and he felt hit by terrible beams of pain, ripping through his shields, hitting his core. He was hurt, but not yet deadly. Though he had to slow down a bit.

His roar of pain shook the floor, and launched himself at the next Death Eaters and fell them. He heard several others apparate frantically away, and only one was left. A defiant young man, fanaticism and loyalty for his cause flowing out of every pore of his body. Harry walked towards him, almost sauntering. "A pity," Harry observed. "You're such a hot guy," and simply severed his head with a swipe of a shadowy tentacle.

"Where are you?" He roared. "Show yourself so I can kill you!"

"I will," a whisper from nowhere reached him. "I will."

"Astra Maxima…" Harry heard, the rest of the chant lost to his ears. Suddenly, a ball of pure light emerged high up in the room, casting terrible brightness throughout the whole house. It burnt right down to his core. His scream brought already struck walls down. His life energy ebbed. Through blurred eyes, he could make out an elder man walking towards him and he seemed to have his wand ready to strike him down.

"I told you," he heard Voldemort's voice, "I will prevail. You did awfully well against my Death Eaters, I give you that, but I'm still, well, better than you." He was close now, very close, towering over his pained body. His arm now pointed down on him.

If you give in now, all is lost. Draco is lost. You are lost. Your parents not avenged, all died for nothing. Get a grip, man! You are better, you are more powerful. You just have to will it!

His heart raced, his mind suddenly exploring possibilities, collecting strength.

"Avada…" He heard Voldemort slowly say, relishing in the feeling. "Ked-"

Harry's left arm flashed forward, dark shadow talons ripping at Voldemort's arm, drenching the floor in blood. The talons flashed and flashed, ripping at Voldemort. The artificial sun wavered, dimmed, then suddenly vanished. He took a deep breath, and felt the strength return to him.

"Never overestimate yourself," he said to the bloody form on the ground, "And never be too arrogant. I know it now. And you don't." With one last strike, he ripped open his chest and stabbed his heart. "And that is why you fail."  
Still shaking slightly, he rose to his full height. He was about to leave, when he heard…someone clap.

"Well done, Harry," the unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore said, "well done."

Harry whipped around, and saw Dumbledore and McGonagal.

"I knew you would not disappoint me in the end," the old wizard smiled.

"How long-"His voice broke off. "What do you-"

"The Inspector here was sensible enough to warn us that Voldemort was here."

"But that was an eternity ago," Harry's eyes narrowed. "You could have helped!"

"Yes, I might have, yes." Even though he still looked like Dumbledore, Harry didn't know who that man was, right now. "But I chose not to. After all, it was you who was destined to do it, not me." He chuckled. "And if I may say so myself, you have really been as good as planned. Even though a bit too bloody for my taste."  
Harry fell silent for a time. Cog wheel turned in his mind. He couldn't believe what he said, what he implied…

"You knew?" He finally bellowed. "You knew the whole time? And done nothing?" The darkness was welling up around him again. "You let Draco get tortured, you let me go through all of this, and didn't raise a hand?"

"It was not my duty to-"

"Bollocks!" Harry finally realized something. "You were afraid, right? You never had the guts for it, didn't you?"

"I-" Dumbledore was about to retort, when he was interrupted by McGonagal.

"He needs to know, Albus," her firm voice said. "He deserves to know what you have done."

"Done?" Harry's voice was dangerously low.

Dumbledore cast a killing glance at Minerva, then stood a bit straighter and started talking again.

"You are a tool." He simply said. "Your birth was planed. Or to be precise, not _your_ birth, but someone with the abilities you have. Dangerous abilities." Harry wanted to say something, but Dumbledore raised a hand. "There was a prophecy even older than the one you feature. It prophesied the coming of a great danger, a terrible foe that would destroy the world; and it was destined to happen in our time." He cleared his throat. "A…society formed which made its goal to thwart this prophecy." McGonagal snorted. "One can at least try. And these old and wise wizards made a decision, a dangerous one, yes. It was decided to breed a wizard, who could save us all from this evil. Shadow magic wasn't yet extinct at that time, so they used it as a starting point, weave and plot through the ages, to create the weapon we needed. When Voldemort rose, we were surprised. We didn't expect it so early. But when you came along we had hope; a hope that wasn't disappointed." He pointed at Voldemort's still bleeding body on the floor. "You did your job."  
Harry stood there, silent for a while. "I was your pawn, and you never told me anything? You used me like a pawn in some wizard's chess game? My parents would have never-"  
"Your parents, yes." Dumbledore sighed. "Your father knew, of course. He resisted us, marrying that Evans woman. But he knew."

"It's all like a big game to you, isn't it?" Harry hissed. "But what now, huh, old man? I cannot grow back; become the tame little boy I was. What's your plan?"

"I was about to get to that point in a minute. Of course, we cannot allow you to become a danger yourself. So we planned ahead." He pulled a little paper out of his cape and unrolled it. He began whispering in ancient tongues, concentrating wildly. It had a funny result on his mind. Suddenly an image, a thought formed in Harry's mind. Harry had to laugh hard. "This is your plan? Your weapon?" He roared with laughter. "You should have thought of better! This spell, as ancient as it may be, is useless."

Dumbledore looked shocked. "But it-"

"It worked on Malfey yes, all those years back. But there's a crazy feature, something you didn't, couldn't know. I know what they, the ancient masters, knew. I don't know how, but it's there. And this spell worked once, but will never work again." Harry smiled thinly. "And the sun thing Voldemort tried, as you obviously observed? Don't try it. I have you killed before you finish it." Harry turned around, and walked away. "I have to go now, I'm afraid. It was nice talking to you."

"Not so quick, Potter," Dumbledore spat. "You may have foiled that," he waved the paper, "but I still have something up my sleeve." He snapped with his finger, and suddenly Draco appeared, gagged and tied up. McGonagall gasped. "You didn't, Albus!"

He ignored her and concentrated on Harry. "Somehow I suspected it wouldn't be so easy. He pointed his wand at Draco, who howled and trashed, but the invisible hand wouldn't let go of him. "Now, it is your choice," Dumbledore said. "Relinquish your powers, go to Azkaban, or your boyfriend here will die. Decide."

For a very long moment it was silent in the room and no one moved.

When it happened, it was quicker than a lighting bolt. Harry's body dissolved into thin air, and solidified before Dumbledore. He had opened his mouth, but it was too late. The shadowy talons on Harry's hand slashed across his throat. Gasping like a fish, Dumbledore fell to the ground, now a lifeless, useless husk. He grabbed Draco and released him. Before he could say anything, he kissed him hard. Then he turned towards McGonagal.

"I know you're wise enough and won't try to stop me." He pointed at Dumbledore, and all the other bodies. "They deserved it, and you know it. I trust you didn't help Dumbledore with this plan?"

She shook her head quickly.

"I thought as much." He grabbed Draco, and then the air around them grew darker and darker until there only was nothing to be seen. "Don't come looking for us…" The darkness said before it suddenly vanished.

* * *

Mostly, they didn't.

The Ministry of Magic, with centuries of expertise with political spin, sold the whole affair as a story of pure success and courage. Dumbledore, dying valiantly in battle against the evil Lord Voldemort. McGonagal, coming to save him but too late. Even the clever Inspector (now promoted to exalted rank, mostly for her silence on the matter, of course) got her fifteen minutes of fame.

The fact that Harry had left did twist the story only slightly. It was said that he left after the battle, accompanied by his trusted friend Draco Malfoy and choose exile away from those who might recognize him, to lead a normal life again. And people believed it, wanted to believe. Not only because it gave them the warm and fuzzy feeling that the Good Heroes once again had prevailed and Evil been banished; but also because they had feared Harry deep down inside of them. Someone who fought, and survived, battle with the Dark Lord couldn't be so pure and good, after all, could he? Maybe he would rise as a new Dark Lord? So most people were happy to know that Potter was gone. Only a few tried finding the Great Harry Potter. But none found him, though one never returned from his hunt, which sparked some debate at the time. But it, too, soon was forgotten, as other, more imminent matters concerned their minds.

Harry Potter also kept his word and sent a letter to the Daily Prophet, detailing how Lucius Malfoy had been crucial to the plot to bring down the Dark Lord. Of course, they believed it, and no one who knew what really had happened was courageous enough to burst the bubble. And so the wizarding world saw Lucius Malfoy rise again to where he considered his place.

After this letter, all of the huge fortune of Harry Potter was transferred away, the real estates safeguarded by Draco's father. And that was the last thing ever to be heard from Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

All went well, or so they all thought. With a ghastly laugh a skeletal hand closed a large book.


End file.
